


Cowboy Up

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Autism, Cowboy AU, F/M, Horses, M/M, Nivanfield, Ranching, Transcendancy, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:32:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Redfield is a rancher, plain and simple. Then a mysterious young man calling himself Piers Nivans arrives, seeking employment. And Chris soon finds himself in unfamiliar territory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Angel?

 

"Yeehaw! Ride him Uncle Bob!" The dust swirled around the legs of the big black stallion as it bucked and reared, trying to dislodge the unfamiliar weight now on it's back. It's mouth and nostrils were flecked with foam, it's flanks were shiny and streaked with sweat.

He had only been on a minute or so, but to Bob, it already seemed like forever. Of all the horses he'd broken over the years, none had ever felt quite like this one. He could sense the power in every muscle, every sinew of the horse, as it twisted and turned beneath him. And as he tried to counter, then second guess, each and every move, he realised it had become a battle of wills, not just a simple bust.

Chris waved his black Stetson in the air, his brown eyes wide and bright, his heart pounding in his chest. He wished he was in the saddle himself, but that was his uncle's right, as the ranch's owner. One day perhaps... And the big stallion was magnificent, Chris had kept his eyes on him from the first time he saw him as a yearling, over two years back, up near the high ridge. He had never asked his uncle that the horse be his. But secretly, he dreamt it would.

Andy clapped a strong hand on Chris' shoulder.

"Boy, ain't that something. Boss has got his hands full today." The foreman gave Chris a friendly, toothy grin. He too, had broken a few broncs in his time, as his missing teeth testified.

"I wish...I wish..." started Chris.

"Don't say it Chris, if you say it, it won't come true boy."

Suddenly, without warning the big horse wrinkled his spine. He kicked off with his hind legs, and then dug his forelegs into the dirt and dust of the small coral. And Bob Redfield never saw it coming, only the dirt and the dust as they rushed towards him.

The smiles faded from Chris and Andy's faces. They both heard the 'snap' as Bob hit the ground head first. His legs twitched briefly and the rowels on his spurs squeaked as they slowly stopped spinning. Then there was a sickening silence.

"Oh Jesus, no!"

Chris leapt down from the top rail and ran over to the prone figure. Bob's head lay at an odd angle to his shoulders. Chris knew he was dead, even before he gently rolled his uncle's body over.

"Easy Chris!"

Andy knelt down beside him as Chris closed his uncle's eyes. The big horse stood still in a corner of the coral, looking at them balefully.

"Sonofabitch!" Andy went for his gun, but Chris stopped him.

"Let him loose Andy, just get him out of my sight."

It was Chris Redfield's first order as the new owner of the Lazy-R ranch.

"Boss."

************************

The Greyhound crawled it's way up the coastal side of the Sierras, jagged grey rocks, jagged green vegetation. Pete Carney sat looking out of the window, they'd just stopped at the last big town before the high mountain pass. And although he'd been looking out of the window, he hadn't seen the young man board at the stop, much less see him sit down beside him as the bus pulled away. It was only when the man spoke that Pete realised he was there at all.

"Hi." said a warm, and strangely mature voice, for someone Pete judged four or even more, years younger. It was hard to tell, the reflections through the windows of the coach seemed to make the face looking at him shimmer. Like something that hadn't quite set.

"Enjoying the view? said the young man amiably.

"Oh, er, I guess. I prefer the sea really."

"I know what you mean. This ranch job, it's not really you is it? I mean, look at you, big guy, strong swimmer I bet. You should be in the Navy, or the Marines."

"Wha...how'd ya know...?" Pete looked confused, he hadn't said anything had he? Yet this guy seemed to know him, like he'd known him for ages.

The young man beside him nodded in the direction of the overhead luggage rack. Full, and then some, with a tan leather saddle and a felt cowboy hat, a white Resistol.

"Saw your gear. Cowboy eh?"

Pete grinned, and felt his face go red.

"Well I dunno', not yet. I've done some riding. I can't seem to settle." he scratched the back of his thick neck ruefully.

"Tell me about it! Listen, I got an idea...." The young man carried on chatting as he took out his bill-fold from the back pocket of his jeans and fished out a card with just a name and a number written on it. Then he took out a roll of hundred dollar bills, all new and shiny. So new and shiny in fact that Pete cut his finger on one as the young man counted them into his hands.

"Ouch!" Pete sucked his finger as the blood flowed, paper cuts were real a bitch.

"Oh, sorry, they're fresh from the printers. Ha ha, only joking!"

As Pete looked into the smiling eyes opposite him, his finger seemed to stop hurting. In fact, at that precise moment, he didn't seem to have a care in the world. He smiled back.

"Just go through that one more time, so I've got it straight in my mind. You want to buy my all gear, yes? And what was the number for again?"

"Sure." said the young man patiently. "My pleasure..."

When Pete Carney got up to leave at the next town, the young man called out after him.

"Ring that number Pete, he's expecting you."

"Thanks again, I will." It was only as he waived goodbye from the stop, that Pete realised he hadn't told the guy his name. He shrugged broad shoulders and went in to the Greyhound office. "When's the next bus back to the coast....?"

************************

It had been two months since his uncle's death, two hard months for Chris. Not for the first time in his life, he'd suddenly found responsibility thrust onto him. And just as before, the time when his parents were killed, he just plunged straight into things. No planning, no discussion. What's the aim? What's the problem? How do I get from here to there in a straight line? Bang!

His uncle's funeral for instance. Once the town sheriff had come up to the ranch to record the death, the doctor had followed close behind. OK, they were the legal formalities. But once they were satisfied, the next hurdle had been the funeral. The Parlour tried to dazzle him with a range of tasteful, expensive, options. 'This much for the casket, this much for the service, a plot? certainly Mr Redfield, that will cost...' And when that didn't work, they tried to cajole him. 'Surely you want the best for him Mr Redfield? It needs to be a fitting tribute...' Chris decided it was all bull.

"Claire, there ain't gonna' be no funeral, finito! We'll bury uncle up on the high ridge, the preacher can come up and do the church stuff. We don't need a choir and hymn sheets and shit. He loved it there, he wouldn't wanna' be anywhere’s else."

She knew her brother was right. She also knew that they couldn't have afforded a fancy service and a plot in the town cemetery in any case. She'd gone through the accounts books with her brother, twice. Aunt Jane had done that for her husband up until her death two years earlier. But since that time Uncle Bob had let things go financially. It had come as a shock to learn the ranch was running on a knife-edge.

So the service was a quiet affair, up on the high ridge, where even on the calmest days a breeze always cooled and refreshed a weary cowboy. Barely a dozen people, some townsfolk and neighbours, plus the preacher. Chris read a short eulogy, war veteran, rancher, husband, uncle... As he finished, he looked up, a line of wild horses topped the ridge above them. He could make out one in particular, big and black. Not moving like the others, just stood there, staring at them, like it had in the coral. Chris stared back, he didn't know what he felt, not hate like Andy. Sadness perhaps? Fate? Claire put a comforting arm around him.

"Hey Chris, come back to us. You OK?"

"Yeh, I'll follow you all down later. Just wanna say goodbye, alone." He saw the concern in her face and forced a smile. "Don't worry, I'm fine sis, honest."

And then, a few weeks afterwards, with his old boss gone, Andy decided his heart wasn't in ranching any longer. Though he loved Chris like he was a son, he knew Chris would want to do things his way, the hard way. Best to move on and give the kid some space, a new start for all concerned.

"I think I'll have me a break Boss." he told Chris once he'd made his decision. "Visit my sister on the coast, perhaps git me some new teeth! I'll stay till you find someone new, and you holla' come round-up time in fall, y' hear?"

Chris squeezed Andy's leathery hands. "I'll hold you to that old-timer. This place ain't going nowhere."

He grinned, but Chris secretly knew it was a blessing in disguise. He'd have to take a pay-cut himself, though there wasn't much to cut. And a younger hand would certainly be cheaper than keeping Andy on. He talked it through with Claire, listening to the various options she put forward. But she knew he'd already made his mind up; she could read him like a book. Come hell or high water, it was clear Chris was going to keep the Lazy-R going, even if he did it all himself. It was a Redfield thing.

So he asked around the neighbouring ranches, scouted a couple of rodeos, and drew a blank every time. It was Claire who suggested he put an ad in some rodeo magazines. Chris didn't see the point. If someone had enough time on their hands to read a magazine, and not just flick through the pictures, Chris was damn sure that person wasn't a cowboy.

So she tried not to be too smug when he finally got a reply to the ad. One Peter Carney, whose parents owned a small stud between Frisco and L.A.

Claire smiled. "Oh, I know the area, it's really pretty there. They've got these cute, cottage style houses, with thatch and gables, and big lawns, and orchards, and....and you'd probably hate it bro." She had caught the look in her brother's eyes. He'd brought her up, she couldn't help but be in his image, but she liked to think she'd softened her edges a little. Chris on the other hand...

It wasn't that he couldn't be sociable when pushed. It was just that he preferred his own counsel, authority was an issue. He'd given up a scholarship at the academy to get Claire through college, working instead. That missed life-experience had left him taciturn and perhaps a little selfish. Once Claire was out in the wide world, he'd leapt at the chance to work on the ranch with Aunt Jane and Uncle Bob. He and his uncle were two of a kind. They could spend a day fencing and posting, barely exchanging monosyllables, just happy in each other's company and in their work. It was a family business, and Chris had always had a strong sense of family. He just didn't feel the need to shout about it...

"Why don't you take him on trial, whilst Andy's still here? Minimum wage till he's proved himself"

"Is that legal?"

"If you include board and lodging, I reckon so. Hey Chris, he's the only one to answer the ad.....poor guy must be really desperate!"

Chris glared at her, she was so much like Ma in looks, but just like Pa and Chris in temperament.

"Is that meant to make me feel good?

"Only one way to find out bro."

Chris couldn't argue with that.

************************

Apart from Andy, there were no longer any regular hands on the ranch. Ben, the rancher to the north, helped out when needed with his crew, just as Bob had helped him. And then there was Carl, a bit of a mystery man, a quiet recluse who owned the land to the south. But Ben said he was solid, and that was good enough for the Redfield’s. Out to the east, a large military training area stretched across the high plains, Army and National Guard. They were good neighbours, Bob and Chris were always invited to their social functions. Though if Chris missed going to the military academy, he never said. Range fires were the major problem, caused by stray rounds or by nature, but whatever the cause, everyone helped out at such times.

In fact, it was talking to the base Fire Prevention Officer that made Chris miss his pick-up at the end of the long drive that wound down to the main road. The bus was due to stop around midday. It was half-past already. He'd be more than an hour late by the time he got there. 'Damn! Not the way he wanted to impress the new hand.'

It was summer, and the dust whirled up behind the old Ford pick-up as Chris drove down the track, drifting west in the light breeze. He parked up by the unofficial stop, marked only by a sign pointing up the track he'd just come down. It said all it needed to say, 'Lazy-R'. It was a Redfield sign.

Chris scanned the area, frowning. There didn't seem to be anyone around. He stood still and listened. There was an almost imperceptible sighing noise. It came from a nearby oak, down in the small creek that the asphalt road followed. He traced the sound. Someone was laid down in the dappled shade under the tree, they were snoring gently. It was a young man, shirtless, Wrangler jeans. His white Resistol hat was pulled down over his face, and his head rested on a finely tooled tan colored saddle. For a moment Chris didn't want to wake him, he looked so peaceful lying there, almost angelic. Why was that?

Chris coughed politely. "Ahem, are you Peter Carney?"

"Nope!"

The spell was broken. "What? Who are you then? I've no time for jokers Mr Carney."

The man ignored the question. "Mr Carney couldn't make it. I'm his replacement."

He raised the hat from his face and smiled. For a moment the sun danced across his features; Chris had trouble making them out at first. Then the young man stood up with an easy grace. Lithe, like a cat. Now Chris could see he was well muscled, but not overly so. His skin was a warm gold, matching his hair, Chris couldn't tell if it was light brown or dark blond. He had a marked Apollo's belt, accentuating his broad chest as it tapered to his hips. But his eyes! As the man held out a hand in greeting, they sparkled with what? Amusement? Friendship? A warm hazel, his irises seemed to whirl and change pattern from one moment to the next. Chris shook himself from his day-dreaming.

"Oh, er, well if you're not Peter Carney, who the hell are you?"

"Piers, Piers Nivans."


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious Piers Nivans seems to be getting under Chris Redfield’s skin. But who the hell is he?

 

Previously: "Oh, er, well if you're not Peter Carney, who the hell are you?"

"Piers, Piers Nivans."

************************

Chris Redfield stared hard at the young man. He was trying to regain control of the situation. A situation which, at the moment, confused the hell out of him.

"So, you're not Peter Carney?"

"Nope!" Nivans smiled.

"Any reason why he didn't make it?"

"I made him a better offer."

"You what!"

"I made him a better offer than your job here."

Chris looked dumbfounded, so the young man continued pleasantly. "Oh, he wasn't really suited for it. Preferred a life on the ocean waves. You'll thank me later, I'm sure."

"I see." said Chris, although he didn't. "OK, forget about Carney. What about you? I need a junior hand on my ranch. Have you got any experience, references? Mr....er..."

"Nivans, but I prefer to be called Piers."

"And I prefer someone with references and who shows some respect for their employer."

"Oh, so I've got the job? Thank you."

"What, no....I don't know....damnit!" Chris had suddenly felt flustered, he took a deep breath and started again. "Your references!"

"They're from the highest authority, trust me."

Chris held his hand out. He was scowling now and he was getting hot in the midday sun. He seemed to be a supporting actor in something he didn't quite understand. Not for the first time since meeting this strange young man, he shook himself out of his thoughts.

"References!"

"I left them at home, in the rush. Can't go back now."

"No, I suppose...Wait! Who's running this conversation? I'm the boss, you'd better understand that Nivans!"

"Piers." Another devastating smile.

Chris scratched his head, he had to force himself not to return the smile. "Can you ride?"

Piers nodded towards the tan saddle and a couple of holdalls sat under the tree. "Got all the gear."

"That's not what.....Oh, never mind! Pick up _all the gear_ , and put it in the back of the truck."

Piers collected his belongings, and put them into the flat-bed of the old Ford.

"Nice, you like vintage cars Chris?" Piers said conversationally.

Chris looked at him, he knew his jaw was dropping. He decided attack was the best form of defence. "Are you gonna' put a shirt on? The sun's fierce this time of day. And I prefer to be called Boss, or Mr Redfield."

"Nope, I'm fine. I like being warm. It's the cold I don't like....you?"

"I like the fall....wait, listen, you'll be no good to me sunburned Nivans! Have you _any_ idea about ranch work? And by the way, the winters here are really cold, you ready for that?"

"I...I don't burn...don't know if that's a blessing or a curse. And yeh, I know what I know, I'll put a shirt on come winter."

It was the first sign of hesitation the young man had shown. Chris grasped at it, still trying to regain control 

"Any reason you don't burn Mr Nivans? Most people with your colouring do, normal people."

 "Ha, ha! I'm not normal then Chris....by your standards." 

"Get in Nivans!" 

************************ 

Chris had planned to talk about the Lazy-R and the cattle he reared on it, but he decided to cut down on the conversation as they drove back up the dusty track to the ranch house. Just as well. The young man kept up a running commentary on everything he saw for the twenty minute drive. When he wasn't opening and closing the various gates they passed through that was. Chris hadn't had to ask, Nivans had seemed to know what to do instinctively. And his knowledge of the cattle and terrain was good. Like he already knew the place. The boy wasn't a greenhorn, and yet... For a moment Chris entertained the notion that perhaps the guy was a stalker; no telling what folk from the coast got up to for fun. But he seemed too convincing. Chris tried to trick him on the cattle, saying they were mainly a Longhorn-Charolais cross. Nivans had immediately corrected him, saying "I think you mean Angus, not Charolais Chris. They're the white ones." And what was with this 'Chris' thing? It was way too familiar. And the 'shirtless' look. Was the guy queer? A gay Californian stalker? 'Christ, that's all I need!' Chris thought to himself as he pulled up outside the house.

"Mmm, homely, I'll be happy here. I'll stow my gear, bunkhouse is over there, right?" said Piers, looking to one side. 

"Er, yeh....over there..." replied Chris, cautiously. How had he known where it was? "Pick any bunk, There's only you and my foreman there and he has his own room."

"OK, is Andy about? Be nice to introduce myself."

"Andy...Mr Walker, is out fencing. He won't be back till this evening. You'll meet him then, we all eat in the house. In the meantime freshen up, then come and find me. We need to talk Mr Nivans. And perhaps you can put a shirt on? My sister's due to visit later this afternoon. I...We, like to keep proper standards with our womenfolk at the Lazy-R."

"OK."

 Was that a twinkle in Nivan's eyes? Chris went inside and checked over Carney's resume. There was nothing about the sea in it, nothing to suggest he'd any desires outside of ranching. He shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps Claire would get to the bottom of it? She was good at digging out secrets, even from her buttoned-up brother. And Andy would surely suss Nivans out. He was way too experienced to have the wool pulled over his eyes. What was it the strange young man had said, 'stow my gear'? That sounded vaguely military. Perhaps he'd served on the army range? It might account for how he seemed to know all about the Lazy-R. Chris was looking for some logical explanation to the whole business. There had to be one.....so how come he knew Andy's name then?

************************

Piers found a suitable bunk, under a dusty window. He liked to be able to see the sky when he was in bed. He took hold of the tattered curtain and rubbed the dust and cobwebs off. That was better, now only the glass pane was between him and the blue heaven above. He stowed Carney's gear away neatly in a locker. Good thing they were roughly the same size. Carney was bigger, but Piers had the feeling he'd grow into the clothes as he worked and muscled-up on the ranch. There was plenty to repair from what he'd seen on the drive up to the house, Chris Redfield included. Man he was wound-up tight! He briefly entertained thoughts of his new 'Boss' and found himself stiffening. "A cold shower for you Nivans! Show some proper respect!" he said in a passable imitation of Chris' sombre baritone, then he laughed. He stripped unselfconsciously in front of the window and walked with an animal grace to the washroom, his feet making no sound as he padded slowly across the rough stone floor. Did Carney have any hair gel in his wash-bag he wondered? He wanted to look his best when he met Claire. Like his meeting with Chris, he knew that first impressions were always important.

************************

Chris sat at the table by the upstairs study window, Carney's resume held absently in his hand. The window looked down onto a bare courtyard, and across towards the low bunkhouse. When Aunt Jane had been alive the yard had boasted roses and aromatic shrubs. Now the flower beds were empty, save for the odd lizard or two skittering amongst the weeds. Neither he or Uncle Bob had ever had the time to be gardeners.

Chris had seen Nivans peer through the bunkhouse window and watched him wipe it clean. He'd seen him start to undress before he'd looked away guiltily. But then he'd looked back just in time to see a tan line and tight buns walk out of sight. He'd felt a sudden, strange thrill, and had immediately hated himself for it. When he looked back down, red-faced, Carney's resume lay crumpled in his hand.

He smoothed the paper out on the desk and read it again, looking for the clues he'd missed the first time. They still weren't there. Irritated, he made his mind up to drive Nivans into town the next day and personally put him on the first bus out. Whichever direction it was bound! The sound of a car horn made him look out of the window again. Damnit, Claire was early! He was always pleased to see her, but he'd hoped to have dealt with Nivans first. He watched as Claire parked-up. As she opened the trunk to get her overnight bag, Nivans came out of the bunkhouse. At least he had a shirt on now. A green and yellow plaid. It matched his eyes thought Chris absentmindedly. Why on earth should he think that?

Nivans touched the rim of his hat in greeting and took the bag out of the trunk in one swift, easy motion. Chris couldn't catch their conversation, but he could hear Claire's laughter. She sounded just like her mother did in Chris' memory. He smiled, he liked to see Claire happy, then he heard Nivans laughing too, and he didn't know what to think. He got up quickly and went downstairs, he suddenly felt...jealous? Of both of them?

He gave Claire an exaggerated hug, almost sweeping her off the ground as he deliberately put himself between his sister and the smiling Piers Nivans.

"Do you know this guy?" he whispered hurriedly in her ear.

"What?"

"Him! Nivans!"

"Hello Sis would be a better greeting Christopher."

Chris put her down. "Sorry, you're early, and I'm confused."

"That makes two of us then."

"Ahem, shall I take your bag in Claire?" said an amused voice behind them.

"Oh yes please Piers, just leave it in the hall, I'll take it up to my room later thanks."

Claire looked up at her brother. "Why the scowl? Did you want to carry my bag bro?"

"I asked if you knew him."

"Probably, he seems to know me, friend of a friend on the coast perhaps? There's so many, you'd understand that if you had lots of friends yourself."

"I've got....some friends. He's not Peter Carney!"

"I know, he's Piers Nivans, he told me. Are you alright? And where is Carney anyway, has he arrived?"

"He's Carney, him, Nivans."

"Chris? You're making even less sense than usual. What do you mean 'He's Carney'?"

"He offered Carney another job and came in his place. I don't even know if he can ride a horse."

"Where are his references?"

"He says he left them behind."

"Ah! Well, you're the practical one. Have you thought about putting him on a horse and finding out?"

"Er, no, not yet. I was getting round to that."

"Well, no time like the present bro. Why don't you two saddle up and ride the range? I'll freshen up, then have a look over the latest accounts whilst you do. Deal?"

"Hmm, good idea. I don't want you and him alone until Andy and I have sussed him out, OK? I think he might be a stalker."

Claire looked at her brother strangely. "A stalker, yeh, that'd be it for sure, not some simple, logical explanation. Are you sure you're alright?" 

Piers rejoined them. "Saddle up Nivans! We're gonna take a ride."

"Great! I'll go fetch my saddle." 

"No! You can use one of ours, they're in the stables. You can take the palomino mare." Chris didn't know why he'd suggested that particular mare, other than she was wonderful gold colour, just like Nivans' skin. Then he realised what he was thinking and flushed at the thought. "C'mon Nivans!" he said, irritably.

Piers tipped his hat to Claire. "See you later Ma'am." Chris clenched his fists tight as he headed for the stable block. "Damn smart ass!" he muttered through teeth that were also tightly clenched. As he said it, he had a sudden mental image of Nivans' pale buttocks contrasting with his tan. "What the fu....?" He shook his head to free it of the image.

************************

In the stables, Piers ran his hands expertly over the mare, checking her mouth and tongue, her legs and shoes. He chose exactly the right saddle and put it over the horse's back, talking gently to her all the while. 'Goldie' had a habit of puffing herself up as the cinch was passed under her. The better to loosen the rider later. Chris watched in expectation, but for once she didn't, standing placidly as Piers made sure it lay flat and untwisted at her heart girth. He finished tacking up, making sure the leathers were adjusted for his leg length. Chris was grudgingly impressed. They led their horses into the yard and mounted. Chris broke his horse straight into a trot, but Piers held back at a walk.

"Better to let 'em warm up first."

Chris shot him a glance but reigned in nonetheless. They left the track and crossed open ground, sloping away down to the south. Chris figured it was a better test of horsemanship. He hung behind Nivans and watched every move. The man was a natural, he couldn't deny it. He rode true Western style, but something wasn't quite right. Then he realised, simple, Nivans was a leftie, riding left-handed. Funny how he hadn't noticed before, this young man was full of surprises.

They rode for over an hour, Chris pointing out landmarks and place names. It was important not to get lost on a big spread. Chris knew it was easily done if you were a greenhorn. Nivans listened to him attentively, asking all the right questions, he seemed relaxed and at ease. His confidence irritated Chris, everything seemed to come naturally to the mysterious Mr Nivans.

Eventually, Chris broke away in frustration, putting his horse into a gallop. He hoped Nivans hadn't seen him, but he soon found the palomino alongside. Nivans was grinning. "Race ya!" he shouted across to Chris.

They both headed back towards the ranch, Goldie moving ahead, Chris didn't like using too much spur, but he wasn't going to be beaten on his own spread. Then Piers inexplicably slowed his horse and Chris flashed by. "Yah, yeehaw!" Chris couldn't help himself. It felt so good, winning for once. He looked over his shoulder and grinned at Nivans. Piers waved his Resistol back in acknowledgement.

"What happened back there?" asked Chris as they led their horses into the yard. "You were well in front."

"You're the Boss." Piers replied simply. Chris didn't know why, but he missed Nivans calling him by his first name.

"And you might just be the new junior hand."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Chris has made a decision, what is he letting himself in for?


	3. chowin', jawin', fallin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piers Nivans continues to intrigue and mystify everyone at the Lazy-R ranch, and Chris takes a tumble, or is it two?

Chris was just about to help himself to a generous slice of tamale pie when Piers spoke out.

"Shall I say grace?" he said pleasantly. Chris' hand retreated from the pie and went back to his lap. Claire gave her brother a look.

"Lord, bless this food and us that eats it. Amen."

"Amen." said the others sheepishly.

"He he, that's a proper Cowboy's grace Boss" laughed Andy, looking at a red-faced Chris. "Merciful short! Ain't heard it here in long while, not since Miss Jane was alive." Every lady was a Miss in Andy's opinion, even the married ones.

Chris lifted the pie dish and offered it to Claire. "Er, yes, quite, ladies first."

Claire gave her brother another look, even more incredulous than the first. "Why Christopher, thank you, wonders will never cease!"

"So Piers, what are your first impressions of the Lazy-R?" asked Claire as they helped themselves to the various dishes laid out on the big kitchen table.

"Like I've come home." replied Piers. Chris glanced at him quizzically. "Like I belong I mean." added Piers, catching the look. "You're like family."

"Um, where is home?" asked Claire, fishing.

"Down on the coast, south of Frisco." Piers smiled, but didn't offer any more.

"Have we met before Piers?" Claire was nothing if not persistent, another Redfield trait. "You seemed to know me this afternoon."

"How could I forget you, with that wonderful red hair? A mutual friend's party perhaps? There were so many after college." he smiled disarmingly.

Claire appreciated the compliment and the smile so much she forgot her next question for a moment. And then, just as she remembered it, Chris butted in.

"Give Nivans some space Sis! Let the man eat first, questions later. You gotta' try this cowboy cabbage Nivans, and the chicken and dumplings. Claire's dumplings are real sweet."

Claire blushed and put a hand to her breast, "Christopher! What will Piers think?"

"Huh?"

Andy laughed and Piers grinned. Chris just looked confused. Claire gave him yet another look, the short, sharp, drop 'em dead one .

"Ouch! What did I say this time?"

"Jest eat your chow Boss, Miss Claire's on the warpath." Andy patted Chris' shoulder in sympathy then he turned towards Piers. "Ma'h sister lives right on the coast, gotta' goat farm in a little place called Pescadero."

"I know it." said Piers. "Just a few miles inland from the beach, wonderful cheeses. There's a great grocery store too, Arcangeli's. They make the best garlic bread and danish pastries I've ever tasted."

"Don't they just. Though that bread takes a might chewin' with these gums."

"Have you got a dental quote yet Andy?" asked Claire whilst mentally filling away Piers' statement for further investigation.

"Yes Miss, and I reckon' I'm a thousand short. I'm gonna' have to herd me some goats fer quite a‘whiles."

"Better than cattle though old-timer." Chris punched Andy in the arm.

"Have you smelt one goat up real close Boss? Let alone a whole herd of them stinkin' varmints!"

They chatted unhurriedly over the meal, but as soon as it was finished, Claire began to clear the table. Ranchers get up early and go to bed early, it had already gone half-past eight. Piers offered to help Claire wash up, and whilst they were both busy, Chris took Andy to one side.

"Suss Nivans out for me please Andy, his knowledge I mean. He certainly can ride, and he seems to know his cattle, but I'd value your opinion."

"Sure thing Boss, he seems a nice enough kid though. Don't remember so much jawin' during chow time a'fore. Miss Claire seems stuck on him, an you too I reckon."

Chris smiled. "Sometimes you reckon too much old-timer."

Piers had finished helping Claire and came over to join Andy.

"Do you play cards Andy? We could have a game before we turn in."

"Do I play cards? Do cow chips grow on the plain? You're on young 'un."

"Not too late Nivans, I'll give you a shake early tomorrow, say 5 am."

"OK Chris, I'll be ready."

After they'd thanked Claire for the meal, the two cowboys left, talking earnestly together. Chris and Claire watched them go, Chris with an arm draped around his sister's shoulders. "Thanks for tonight Sis. That was a lovely meal." He bent down and kissed her head.

"Hmm, don't get used to it Bro. Our finances need a real boost right now, that was strictly a one-off, to get to know your man Nivans."

"What do you think of him?"

"I think I like him. I'm going back down to the coast on Monday, I can make some enquiries about him next week if you want me to?"

"No, don't, I think like him too. Let's see what Andy has to say, but I'm happy to give him a trial run based on what I've seen. I liked what he said about belonging."

" _Like family_ he said." Claire patted Chris' arm.

"Yeh, that means something to me." Chris hugged his sister tight. "Yeh, family."

************************

Earlier that afternoon Claire had gone through the accounts and then waited in vain for Chris to return from his ride with Piers. They'd just about reached their borrowing limit with the bank, and it was a long time to the fall round-up and cattle sales. She'd heard the clatter of the horses in the yard, and looked out to see Chris and Piers return. Chris was first, looking flushed and excited. Mr Nivans must have impressed. It made her glad to see her brother like that. He was so handsome when a smile lifted his mouth and those sad brown eyes sparkled. It didn't happen often enough these days. Piers followed shortly behind on Goldie. He let the palomino nuzzle his face when he got down, her ears pricked forward contentedly. Claire smiled, the young man seemed to make everyone happy. But when they didn't come in after half an hour she went downstairs to the kitchen, with it's old range and long pine table that could easily seat ten hungry hands, plus the foreman and his Boss. Once upon a time it had, but sadly those days were long gone now. Claire sighed, coming back to the ranch often made her feel a sense of loss, for the past, for her Aunt and Uncle. And for the summer holidays spent there with Mom and Pop when she and Chris were kids. She forced herself back to the present. "Get a grip Claire, suck it up girl." That too, was a Redfield thing, life went on, whatever the past.

She wasn't sure why, but she thought she'd prepare something 'western' for supper that night. Not that she wanted to show off....but she thought it would be a nice way to welcome Piers....Nivans, that is. And Andy would appreciate a good feed when he returned. He'd been out for a couple of days Chris had said, and knowing Andy that had meant a diet of beans and then more beans. She wrinkled her nose at the thought - Cowboys!

************************

The next day it was only Claire and Andy who sat down for breakfast.

"Good morning Andy, have you seen Chris yet?"

"He cut sticks with young Piers first thing. The Boss came in an woke Piers hisself, five o'clock. I heard them jawin' and laughing before they left. Disturbing my beauty sleep an' all!"

Claire grinned at Andy "You need to sleep...."

"Now don't you say it Miss! Mine's a mature visage."

"Hmm, if you say so." she laughed, "So, where were they off to so bright and early? He didn't say anything to me about it last night."

"They's gone fencing a landslip up beyond the high ridge. And I reckon' the Boss wants to check on that sonofabit....Oh, sorry Miss Claire....that sob black stallion that roams up there. I shoulda' shot him when I had the chance. But the Boss said no, I figure he still wants to bust him."

"He'd be worth a fortune in stud fees Andy. The Lazy-R needs all the help it can get right now, we're running on empty."

Andy fixed her with a stare. "That's as maybe, but he's a born killer that one. Mark my words Miss. You can see it in his eyes, it's in his blood."

"Do you think Chris is in danger?" Claire was suddenly worried, she knew how determined Chris could be once he'd set his mind to something.

"He knows the risks Miss. But he want's that horse real bad. Always has, since he first set eyes on him. And even after your uncle.....Well, he just said let him go, and like a dang fool I did."

"Well Piers is with him. He seems level-headed, if a little mysterious."

"And that's another thing. Have you seen how the Boss likes to show off in front of him, like a buckaroo? When I got back yesterday, the Boss was showin' him roping tricks in the coral. Comes running up to me and says 'Andy, come and meet Piers Nivans, our new hand.' No, 'How's your day bin, any problems?' Jest come and meet the waddy. That ain't the Chris Redfield I know, all buttoned-up and quiet like." He's sorta' changed, and I don't rightly know if it's for the worse or the better. Yackin' an smilin'. If I wasn't leavin' I think I'd be stayin', jest to see what happens."

Andy broke into a toothless grin. And so did Claire, briefly. So, she wasn't the only one to have noticed. People did act strangely when Piers Nivans was around!

"So, what do you make of him, our new tenderfoot?"

"He ain't no tenderfoot Miss, he's a dabster, knows his stuff. Dashed if I know how, he don't look old enough, but he's got it up here." Andy tapped his head. "I give him all my Cowboy logic tests last night Miss Claire, and dang me if he didn't pass 'em all jest like that."

"Logic tests? What're they Andy?"

"Well, here's a f'rinstance....There's three men in the front of a truck see. And they's all dressed alike, hat to boot. Which one is the real cowboy?"

"I don't know." said Claire, "If they all look identical, how can you tell?"

"He got it right, and the why-fer's. 'The cowboy's the one in the middle of course Andy.' he says to me with that sassy smile o' his. 'He ain't sitting there just by chance. Fer' one, he don't have to drive, and fer' two, he don't have to mess with the gates." Andy laughed, and so did Claire.

"Dear Andy! I'm gonna' miss you." she patted his arm across the table.

"I tell you what though." Andy continued. "He might be a proper cowboy, but he sure as hell cain't play heads-up or Texas hold'em."

"Andy Walker! Have you been gambling? What would Uncle Bob have said?"

"I reckon he'd a'turned a blind eye Miss Claire." Andy winked roguishly. "But that Piers now, he does all that jiggery-pokery with his face, all moving his eyes and stuff. Damn! I swears they even change color. If'n you'll pardon my French. Gives him away every time, boy cain't bluff to save his life. I cleared over a thousand dollars last night!"

"Oh Andy it's illegal, you shouldn't...."

"Only if ya git's caught!" Andy laughed again. "And besides, it was all his idea, when we got back to the bunkhouse after we was all done chowin' and jawin'. Said he ain't got nothing else to spend his money on. And now I can git ma teeth after all. With that cash I'm home and dry, ain't that somethin'?"

Claire thought about it. It certainly _was_ _something._ Though precisely what she didn't yet know. Piers didn't seem the type to lose at anything, he was too....too perfect? But Chris had said he'd lost their race on the horses deliberately, and now in Andy's poker game. What was he playing at? And as for not being able to bluff she wasn't so sure. Perhaps he was better at that than any of them truly realized? Then she pushed all the uncharitable thoughts firmly to the back of her mind. So what? He'd drawn Chris out of his shell and now he'd helped Andy. And he was also rather handsome. His skin coloring and those two little moles on his left cheek made him look almost cherubic. What was there not to like? Claire blushed as her thoughts wandered, and she put a hand self-consciously up to her neck. Yes, there was a lot to like concerning Piers Nivans.

************************

That morning Chris and Piers had saddled-up in the dark, then loaded a couple of mules with spare posts, some rolls of wire, feed and food. Where he could, Chris would make do with the fencing already there; but sometimes with a landslip, posts and wire would be lost or impossible to retrieve. They rode out in silence, each of them leading a mule. Chris had adopted his usual goal-oriented, silent mode, whilst Piers was just cold, hunched in a thick Carhartt jacket. The sun had only just risen, and the cold night air still clung to the land. After an hour, as they cleared the first ridge, Piers heard another sound other than hooves scrabbling on stone. A large German Shepherd dog joined them, catching them up with an easy lopping gait. It ran past Piers and leveled with Chris, barking once to announce it's arrival. If Chris acknowledged the dog, Piers didn't see or hear him; so he maintained his own silence and waited impatiently to feel the sun warm his body.

They could have made it this far in the truck, but now they left the rough track and started to climb towards the high ridge itself. Piers followed Chris' path closely, trying to avoid the slippery scree, shortening the lead rope on his mule to stop it straying too far either side.

The hairs on the back of Piers' neck rose and the below them the skin tingled. His keen sixth-sense had triggered an in-built alarm. Slowly, he scanned the ridge rising up in front of them. His eyes adjusting to focus at that distance. He called out to Chris. "We're being watched." He pointed up and to the right. "One O'clock, high." Chris followed his direction.

"What, Coyotes? I can't....wait, yes, horses?"

"A small pinto and a large black one." said Piers. "Is that your stallion?"

"Reckon so, he seems to keep tabs on me whenever I'm up this way. Danged if I know how he finds me though. Sight and smell I suppose."

"More than that I think." said Piers, "Your connected somehow, Andy told me about him last night."

"Connected? What do you mean? Like fate or somethin'?"

"Maybe." Piers shrugged, "I don't have all the answers."

"Damnit Nivans, every time you answer something, you leave even more questions unanswered. What gives?"

Piers shrugged again. "Like I said before, I know what I know."

"Well know this, one day I'm gonna bust that damn horse, come hell or high water. That's not fate, that's a fact."

Piers smiled, as much to himself as to Chris. But he didn't say anything. How could he?

As soon as the sun began to disperse the night chill, Piers paused and removed his jacket. As it rose higher into the blue heaven, he removed his plaid shirt. He flexed his shoulders and luxuriated in the warmth. Chris watched him and shook his head in wonder. Nivans was like some kind of snake or a lizard, basking in the morning sun, soaking up the heat. He wasn't your normal hired hand, that was for sure.

************************

They found a long break in the fencing where the scree had slid down and over a ledge. A post dangled over the lip, still attached to it's secure neighbor by a couple of strands of barbed wire. Chris was determined to retrieve it, it was a Chris Redfield thing. So he scrabbled down the scree to take a hold of the wire. Which is when he slipped. His feet went out from under him and he found himself over the edge, he grabbed at the wire in desperation.

"Gah!" A barb tore through his glove and deep into the flesh of his palm. He bit back the pain as he swung below the ledge. "Nivans!"

"I got you Chris, just take my hands, both of them."

As Chris stretched out his hand, he could see Nivans' face above him. And at the very moment he should have been fearing for his life, he found himself admiring his rescuer's physique. The well defined lines of his pectoral muscles, deep and square against the broad rib cage that tapered away to a narrow waist. The sinews and tendons straining in relief against the musculature of his arms. The normally full lips were drawn tight with the effort, the brows furrowed in concentration. For a moment the face appeared older, angry, as Piers began to grimly haul Chris upwards. And though thinner than Chris', the young man's arms pulled with a surprising and unrelenting force. It was only when Chris scrambled over the lip did he see that Piers had locked his legs around the remaining post for anchorage. It was an impressive feat of strength by the smaller man.

For Chris the whole experience had been frightening and yet at the same time strangely erotic. "Thanks." he said smiling and helping Piers to his feet. "I owe you one."

"That's OK Chris, it wasn't your time." Piers said quietly. The youthful golden face was calm and composed again. "Here, let me take a look at that hand."

He held Chris' leather-gloved hand in his own. Blood was already seeping through from wire-cut. He removed the glove gently and inspected the wound. "It's deep, but clean. You up-to-date for tetanus?" Piers asked. Chris nodded. "Great, let me get the first-aid pack. Some iodine and a pressure bandage and you'll be good as new. Piers held Chris' hand tenderly whilst he applied the thick brown liquid. Chris expected it to sting, but it didn't.

As Piers attended to him, Chris felt himself suddenly hardening between his legs. "Oh! Sweet Jesus!"

"Sorry, am I hurting you?"

"Er, no, it's nothing.....Um, what did you mean exactly? 'It wasn't my time?' Like you _know_ when my time is!"

"Just doing my job, looking after my Boss. Ain't no big deal." Piers said simply, so Chris let it drop, he certainly didn't want to appear ungrateful. In no time his hand was expertly bandaged. He flexed his fingers gingerly, they all worked.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Cub Scouts of course." Piers made the two-fingered salute.

"I bet you got badges for everything."

"You should see my collection." Piers laughed.

Chris put a friendly arm around his shoulder. "Are you good at everything you do Mr Nivans?"

Piers was silent. For a moment his eyes seemed to darken and the frown returned to his face. "No, not always." he said slowly, then he smiled. "C'mon, let's see what we can make of the remaining fencing. And I prefer to be called Piers by the way."

Chris laughed, "You have mentioned it once or twice."

************************

That evening they sat around a blazing camp fire, watching it sputter and fizzle as it sent sparks up and away into the cold night air. Up and up into the midnight blue sky, until they were lost to sight.

"They're just like little fiery devils, flying around." said Chris, watching the embers as they spiraled ever upwards.

"No, they're going the wrong way." replied Piers thoughtfully.

"OK then, they're like glowing golden angels returning to heaven, how's that?"

Piers smiled. "That's _much_ better!"

They were both lost in shared silence for a moment, contemplating the crackling fire. After a while Chris noticed Piers was now hugging himself tightly. He got up and pulled a couple of thick woolen blankets from their pile of gear. He gave one to Piers and put the other around his own broad shoulders.

Piers smiled up at him. "Thanks Chris." he wrapped the blanket close around himself, and rubbed his cheek against the thick pile. "Mmm, nice and warm."

Chris watched him and grinned. "Well at least one of us doesn't need a blanket, he's got his own built-in." He looked over at the big black and tan dog, lying by their gear. On guard, one eye open in readiness.

Piers put a hand out of the blanket and gestured towards the dog. "Here Ruffy."

The German Shepherd game bounding over, wagging it's tail.

"Hello Ruff." said Piers, giving the big dog's ears a rub.

"What did you call him?" asked Chris, "His name's Rinty, after Rin-Tin-Tin."

"Oh! yes, I must have been thinking of some other dog." said Piers hurriedly.

"Odd, Rinty's normally wary of strangers. It's like he already knows you."

Piers laughed, slightly nervously Chris thought, "Hah! I seem to have that effect on dogs."

Chris looked at him keenly. "Hmm, and people and horses too it seems. Did you ever work up on the army range, to the east of the Lazy-R?"

Piers smiled, the light of the fire reflected off him, making shadows move across his face, causing his eyes to change color from one second to the next. Not for the first time since they'd met, Chris became fascinated by the shimmering, smiling face in front of him.

"Nope...." Piers replied, but Chris didn't seem to hear him. "....not in this lifetime." he finished quietly.

Despite their earlier meal, and the fire, and now the blanket, Piers started to feel the cold of the night air again, he began to shiver.

Chris, still studying the young man's face intently noticed the pained look that suddenly passed across it, the shaking of the shoulders. Without really knowing why, Chris held an arm out and opened up his own blanket.

"Here Piers, come and get yourself warm, next to me."


	4. The Fiery and the Snuffy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most things we do in life have consequences. After pleasure can come pain; fluff and angst often follow on from one another. So when Piers saved Chris' life and then Chris fell in love with Piers, there were bound to be consequences. The Fiery and the Snuffy.

Chris heard Piers sucking-in deeply through clenched teeth, felt him filling his lungs as he tried to steady himself under Chris' sweating body. For the older man, long years of abstention, frustration, anger, guilt and now desire had release through the golden skinned man below him. But it wasn't purely carnal, there was an element that Chris didn't recognize at first....it had been so long....love? He slowed down his frenzied pounding, then stopped and listened. Piers seemed to have ceased breathing....

Piers had wanted to cry out, at the pain, at the intrusion, but his body had gone rigid. Control, regain control....his mind still functioned.....but his body just seemed to hang there, suspended, frozen between breaths. The stabbing pain again, exploding inside him, like a brilliant white light illuminating an empty room. It was always like this. Was that it then, part of his curse? Pain before, during and after pleasure. Would they always go hand-in-hand? Were they the same thing? A voice burst inside his head, then another, were they pain and pleasure too?

_It wasn't planned._

_But he almost died._

_It wasn't planned._

_But it wasn't his time._

_Exactly, and now you've rewarded him, you've deviated from the plan._

_Don't you think he, they, deserved it?_

_It wasn't planned._

_Don't keep saying that._

_We all accepted when it was to be the time. Now this, it wasn't....._

_I know, I know, it wasn't planned......But we let him go back? Agreed?_

_Yes, of course, he still has to complete his task. And we must keep to our original plan. Send him back._

Piers tried to wake himself out of the dream, nightmare, alternate reality, whatever it was, but it was difficult when you couldn't move. And a voice still remained.....

"It wasn't planned....Piers, can you hear me? I, I just couldn't stop myself. Piers? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry....it wasn't planned...."

Piers felt the warm breath on the back of his neck.

He was back.

It was where he had to be, but now it was where he wanted to be. He opened his eyes, the gold and the yellow, the brown and the green, whirling and dancing. Then, gradually at first, they slowed down, finally coalescing into hazel.

He was back.

He twisted his body around in the powerful arms that were holding him tight, and smiled up at Chris Redfield. The man who was the very reason for his being, the man who was his fate. And now, after the previous night, the man who was his lover.

He was back.

He saw the concern and confusion, the strength and the tenderness, the fear and the love in the face above him. All crowding together, jostling for recognition. Like Piers, Chris Redfield was wearing his emotions now; no longer trying to bottle them up or bury them deep. He'd come back too.

"Chris." said Piers simply.....

"Piers! Oh Piers, I thought you'd stopped breathing. You suddenly felt so cold, lifeless. I thought......"

"Shh, I'm OK, I'm a survivor. And you? How do you feel?"

"Like, like I lost something and then found something else, no, _someone_ else so much better. I want to laugh, I want to cry, I don't know what I want anymore, except you. I think you've saved my life twice today Piers Nivans, like you're my guardian ang...."

"Don't say it Chris....!" Piers almost screamed the words out; Chris had never seen Piers lose his self-control. The hazel eyes below him flickered briefly in anger, then immediately softened as he continued speaking more quietly. "......no, not yet, don't tempt fate. Just enjoy the now, for me. Please?"

************************

"I'll take you up on that offer of a ride to the coast Miss Claire, if you don't mind. I hates them buses, always stopping and starting, folks coming and going, a man cain't get settled. It's like a city on wheels. Gimme the range, a horse and some peace and quiet any days."

"Of course Andy. Are you packed?"

"Reckon so, don't need much fer' goats. I'll leave my tack here, ready fer' the roundup. Sis will have anything else I needs."

"Oh Andy, I'll miss seeing you at weekends, and I know Chris is really gonna' miss having you around. I'm not sure how he's going to manage with just him and Piers. It's a lot of work for two."

"The Boss will manage fer' now, it's a quiet time o'year. But he'll need help come the fall and after, ain't no denying. Perhaps that nice Mr Airhart will help you out?" Andy winked and grinned, he knew Miss Claire was more than a little stuck on Ben Airhart.

"Andy!" she put a hand to her neck and blushed.

The old foreman pushed home his attack. "In fact Miss, if you was to live here, things would be rosier all round, wouldn't ya say? You could work mostly from home, on that inter thing, if'n you had a mind o'course. I'm just sayin’."

"You old rogue, you've thought 'bout this for a whiles haven't you? Just so's you don't feel guilty 'bout leavin'."

"Sounds ta’ me you like you's part ways here already Miss Claire."

"Andy Walker!" she gave him the drop 'em dead look, then burst into laughter and kissed him. "Bless you! Why didn't I think of this before?"

"Cos you got your head in them figures all the time Miss, instead o' jest lookin' around you. A buzzin' ranch means business, and business means money. Or don't they teach you that at that fancy University you work in? Git some o' them city folk here, the ones who reckon they's John Wayne or Annie Oakley, fill the bunk house up wi' paying guests."

"But what about all the work Andy? It still has to be done."

"Take 'em with ya's, let 'em watch, let 'em help if'n they's a mind. Them 'clever' fools'll pay a tidy sum to git saddle sore and dirt under their fingernails. I've spoke to young Ben's and that Mr Alfonso's foremen 'bout it a fer. Might git you out o' this money pickle. Either that, or you best learn how to play poker with Piers, heh heh!"

"Did Chris say when they'd be back?"

"No, but a'for sundown I reckon, you don't wanna' be leading mules in the dark."

"We can discuss these ideas tonight then, over supper. Have you ever mentioned them to Chris?"

"No, not my place to Miss. The Boss is jest like your Uncle, Lord rest his soul, wears blinkers. Men like that, they's gotta think o' things themselves, you cain't tell 'em nothin'."

"Ha ha, Andy, you're forgetting, I'm still his _little_ sister, I just have to make a pouty face like this and bingo, he'll do whatever I want." Claire demonstrated to a bemused old foreman.

"An what if'n he don't?"

"Simple, I make his life hell, as only a little sister knows how."

Andy shook his head and laughed. "Oh my poor Boss......you don't stand a chance, heh, heh."

"I'm gonna make some phone calls right now to Ben and Mr Alfonso. Get some facts and figures, just in case Chris asks questions. Thank you Andy, this could be just what the Lazy-R needs." She gave him a hug and another peck on his leathery cheek.

"Supper at 7 tonight, OK? I'll make trail-beef stew and root-vegetable hash, then Chris and Piers can reheat it if they're late."

"Miss Claire, I'm slaverin' already!"

************************

Chris and Piers broke camp early and rode out to check the fencing on the western border of the Lazy-R. They rode side by side now, Chris making the most of Piers' company, talking freely, like he'd always known him. He had a lot of silent years to make good, and Piers was an expert listener. His head cocked to one side in wry amusement, his eyes sparkling in the light from the blue heaven. It hadn't taken Piers long to remove his jacket and shirt as the sun rose over the high plateau. It wasn't done to inflame Chris, Piers needed to feel the warmth on his body, fuel for his soul. But inflame Chris he did, the hard curves and lines of Piers' muscles, the soft hair that covered his limbs and shone like a halo around his body in the early morning sun. Not for the first time, Chris mused on the 'angelic' quality of the young man riding alongside him. Yet when he'd tried to make the comparison earlier, Piers had become inexplicably angry, what was it he'd said? 'Don't say it....not yet, don't tempt fate.' What on earth did he mean?

"Is that my cue to get a word in?" Piers' words broke into Chris' thoughts. "You've been silent for, oh, nearly half a minute, cat got your tongue?"

Chris laughed and threw his hat at Piers, but it spun away in the breeze. Rinty barked and ran after it, picking it up, his tail wagging. Going out with his master wasn't usually this fun. He trotted back to Chris and held the hat up for Chris to reach down and grab. As Chris leant down Rinty backed away growling, he wanted to play.

Piers' dismounted, laughing. "He's trying to tell you something Chris, it's playtime, c'mon."

Piers took the hat from the dog, scratching him behind his ears, then waited till Chris was standing alongside them. "Here Chris.......catch!" He threw the hat like a frisbee. Chris ran after it, his arm outstretched, catching it as it spun. Rinty ran after him barking happily. They played Piggy-in-the-middle with the big dog for a good twenty minutes, both men sweating in the heat. As their reactions got slower and slower, they eventually collided, falling to the ground together, laughing and giggling like two small boys. They wrestled briefly, but Piers didn't put up much of a fight and Chris was soon straddling him. His hands running over the sweating, golden muscles now squirming beneath him.

"Did you just let me win again Nivans?" Chris spoke in his best 'stern-boss' voice.

"Nope, I think I won...a kiss?"

"Damnit Piers, what are you doing to me?" He bent down and they shared a long passionate embrace.

"I'm giving you your life back Chris. You'd forgotten you had one, I'm just reminding you, that's all."

"Thank you."

"Just doing my job."

"Do you enjoy your work then Mr Nivans?"

"Oh yes, very much. It.....um....it has it's rewards......." Piers' hands slipped under Chris' shirt.

"Rinty, don't look!"

************************

In fact, Chris and Piers weren't back late. Claire heard Rinty barking about a quarter past five, and shortly afterwards heard the two men return. She knew they'd be a while whilst they tended and fed the animals, so she checked and stirred the stew then took a shower. She wanted to be looking her best before tackling her Brother about her plans. She was pretty sure she'd get her way eventually, but there was no point in taking chances. Chris could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes. What was it Andy had said, 'you gotta make 'em think of it themselves....' Hmm, worth trying perhaps?

Andy went into the bunkhouse showers around 6:30 to wash-up for supper. He'd heard Chris and Piers go in a little earlier, heard the sound of laughter. 'They sure like joshing' he thought absently as he entered, holding his towel around his waist with one hand, and his shaving mug and razor in the other. He stopped, rooted to the spot. Andy's towel and mug both hit the floor about the same time. His jaw was not far behind.

"Oh Lordy!"

Chris and Piers both heard the noise and turned around from lathering each other up. They saw a pale, naked body with a scrawny red neck retreating rapidly. A neck that was now getting redder by the second. They looked at one another, then burst out laughing. "Guess that just leaves Claire to tell now." said Chris, "Oh Lordy indeed!"

Andy was the last to join the others for supper at the big kitchen table. He sat down quietly, hands in his lap, avoiding making eye contact.

"Er, right, would you like to say grace tonight Andy?" said Chris, feeling the awkward silence emanating from his foreman.

Andy didn't look up. "Lord, bless this table and we your miserable _sinners_ sat around it." He emphasized the word sinners, it wasn't lost on Chris and Piers, but Claire was puzzled.

"Oh dear Andy, you sound upset. Is everything all right?"

"No Miss Claire, it ain't."

"Wha..."

Chris interrupted. "Andy saw Piers and I larking around in the showers tonight."

"I knows what I saw Boss."

"Larking around?

Andy stood up suddenly. "Excuse me Miss, I think I'll take ma'h supper in the bunkhouse tonight if'n you don't mind." He walked stiffly out of the kitchen.

Claire looked at her brother sharply. "Chris, what did Andy mean? What's going on?"

But Chris spoke to Piers first. "Go after him Piers, see if you can explain. Tell him I'll talk to him later."

Piers nodded and got up to follow Andy. He stopped in the doorway and turned and smiled at Chris. "The truth, it's never easy told, but it's always best said."

Claire frowned in confusion. "Chris, what did Piers mean? What did Andy mean? What the hell's going on here?"

************************

Piers knocked gently on the slatted wooden door. "Andy, it's me, Piers. Can I come in?" There was a sound of shuffling inside, a bolt being pulled back. Piers waited a moment, then pushed the door open, Andy was lying on his cot. Piers sat down on the edge, facing the foreman.

"No good talking to me boy, I knows what I saw." said Andy, looking away from him.

"I don't deny it, and neither will Chris." Piers paused, then sighed, as if he'd reached a decision. "Look at me Andy Walker."

The hazel eyes in front of him whirled. Light filled Andy's consciousness. Not a concussive white light, Piers was not that practiced, but an intense blue, like a summer's sky. "If seeing is believing Andy...."

"Argh! What the...?" Andy gasped, then he seemed to freeze in mid-sentence, only his eyes remaining mobile, blinking rapidly. When the light finally vanished, he couldn't tell if it had been minutes or just seconds. Without hesitating, he put a gnarled hand up to Piers' face, a simple gesture of kindness. It was cold to the touch. It looked tired, and much much older.....

_What just happened?_

_He played a wild card._

_But that wasn't in..._

_The plan? I know, but it's in the rules._

_It's....it's most irregular!_

_You hate the randomness don't you? You're afraid of it._

_It's unsettling, there's no order, no structure...._

_That's how they live their lives._

_What's that peculiar noise? Is it you? Are you unwell?_

_Ha ha, they call it laughter, it's rather fun..._

......Andy shook his head, it must have been a trick of that weird blue light. When he looked again, the Piers he knew was sat before him. "Oh, sweet merciful Jesus. You poor boy." Andy was still trying to take it all in, but somehow he knew everything he'd seen to be true.

"You an' him?" asked Andy. Piers nodded. "All of them?"

Piers nodded again. "Every single one." he replied quietly.

Andy blinked. "Then who am I to gainsay it? If it's good enough fer the Boss, I reckon it's good enough fer me. I apologize Piers, and I'm gonna apologize to the Boss right now. C'mon young fella."

"There's no need Andy, you can't...won't....be able to speak about what you've just seen."

"I won't?"

"Nope."

"Oh....So, um, does the Boss know?"

"No, not yet."

"Dang it Piers! Then what can I say?"

"How about just giving him your hand? And telling Miss Claire you’re ready for supper?"

"Heh, heh, I am a mite peckish." Andy seized the opportunity to get out of a confusing situation as quickly and simply as possible. "OK then, let's go do that!"

Andy put an arm around Piers shoulder as they crossed the courtyard. "By the way Piers, I don't means anything by it, being regular straight an' all, but that's one hell of a tan line you got there boy."

Piers laughed, "Andy, believe me when I say hell had nothin' to do with it! But thanks for the compliment."

"Well, I figure if I gits you in a good mood, you might find yer way to buy me a new shaving mug."

"Hmm, we could play cards for one later. Heads-up or Hold 'em?"

"Heh, heh, you're on son, I might jest get me a new razor too."

But they both stopped joshing the moment they walked into the kitchen. Chris had his back to them. He was holding Claire tightly. Her head lay on his shoulder; she was crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may be wondering what Fiery and Snuffy mean? The true origin of these old cowboy terms is now lost, but there are several plausible explanations. Fiery may refer to a 'paint' colored horse with white and dark color spotting, and Snuffy to a buff or reddish-brown colored animal. Others say it refers to the camp fire and branding iron. In certain states, Fiery and Snuffy refer to lightning and thunder, or to the temperament of certain horses and cattle. There is probably an element of truth in all those explanations. In the context of this chapter of Cowboy Up, I mean Fiery and Snuffy to refer to pain and pleasure, angst and fluff. There, just adding to the confusion! nimrod


	5. The Simple Tenses.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Simple Tenses: Past, Present and Future. They all seem to be coming together at the Redfield’s Lazy-R ranch. Chris is more concerned with living in the present, whilst sister Claire plans for a brighter future. But is the past catching up with the beguiling Piers Nivans?

 

Previously: Andy and Piers both stopped joshing the moment they walked into the kitchen. Chris had his back to them. He was holding Claire tightly. Her head lay on his shoulder, she was crying.....

************************

Claire looked up and smiled through her tears. She saw that Andy had his arm around Piers' shoulders, they seemed to have sorted things out between them. She beckoned them in with a hand.

"It's OK boys, these are happy tears. C'mon, group hug."

Andy looked somewhat embarrassed. Claire fixed him with the look. "Would you refuse a lady's request Andy Walker?"

"Um, I reckon' not Miss Claire, if'n you puts it that way."

"I do!"

They all embraced.

"Are we good Andy?" Chris asked his old foreman.

"Yes, Boss. Didn't rightly know what to think a'fer, but your young fella set me to rights." Piers smiled. And so did Claire.

"Bless you Piers, you've bought my old brother back, thank you." she said

The hazel eyes whirled, "It's meant to be." Piers said simply.

Claire couldn't be sure, only she thought there was a hint of sadness in Piers' voice. But she was feeling emotional, and she quickly dismissed the thought as they all sat down to supper for the second time that evening. She was just pleased to see her brother so happy and content.

During the meal, as the men noisily helped themselves to the beef stew and vegetable hash she'd prepared, Claire tried to collect her thoughts. She didn't want to steal Chris and Piers' thunder; but she had important news of her own too. She'd practiced the pouty face, in case Chris proved stubborn. Given his joyful mood at present, she hoped it wouldn't come to the giving him the sisterly hell!

"Hey Chris, I was talking to Ben Airhart this morning...."

"Oh yeh?...." said Chris with his mouthful, winking at Andy, and nudging Piers in the ribs. ".....Mr Sex on Legs!"

"Oh, really! I don't know what you mean Chris! I only said that once....or twice." Claire blushed, her cheeks trying to match the color of her hair. "Anyway, be that as it may, this was a purely professional conversation...."

"Ha!"

"Christopher! I'm warning you!"

"OK sis. So, you and Sex, er, Ben, were _talking_....what about?"

Look, this is serious, if you don't want to listen fine..."

"Alright, alright, I'm only teasin'. Now stop pouting and tell me what's so danged important."

"Well, it started with something Andy said at breakfast this morning, about securing the future of the Lazy-R, financially. I also spoke to Mr Alfonso about it, and he's a self-made man, he knows about these things.

"Carl Alfonso? Well, he's certainly wealthy by all accounts. So sis, just what are these ideas you've been cooking up along with the stew and the hash?" Her brother was intrigued, and Claire knew it.

"Basically, opening up the Lazy-R as a Guest Ranch. With me working from here rather than at Stanford, I think I could also run the guest side, whilst you and Piers looked after the ranching. Guests could help you two out on the range, and Mr Alfonso suggested getting college students in during summer to look after the guests. Ben does it too and he gave me some figures to work with. I've done some basic calculations and I think it could work out pretty well. Here, have a look."

Claire handed Chris a sheaf of papers with budgets, forecasts, spreadsheets. He barely glanced at them, Chris knew his sister would have done a good job on the figures. Apart from finances being her line of business, she loved the ranch as much as he did. It had been their home for last sixteen years. He smiled at her, this bright, beautiful woman he'd raised since their parents had died. God, she was so like her mother.

"Great, let's do it sis."

"What! No argument? No 'Hmm, I'll think about it?' No 'It's out of the quest...."

"Nope." Chris grinned. "Sorry to disappoint you. If you think it's a good idea, then we'll do it, simple. When do we start?"

It was only the sound of Andy dropping his spoon into the stew that broke the ensuing silence. "Damnit Boss, now I's heard everything!"

"Me too." said Claire, still amazed. "What's come over you?"

Chris looked at his sister and smiled again. "Life, and love I guess." He clapped a hand affectionately on Piers' shoulder. "Whad’ya think Piers? Do you fancy working on a Dude Ranch?"

"I'm all for anything that makes for a happy future Chris." It was exactly the sort of enigmatic response the others were beginning to expect from the mysterious Mr Nivans.

************************

Chris did look at Claire's figures later that evening, after Andy and Piers had retired to the bunkhouse for the night. Chris hadn't yet worked out what sort of cohabiting arrangements he and Piers should make. It was still all so new to him.

"Let's just keep it simple Chris, enjoy the now, the future will be what it will be." Piers had said as Chris kissed him goodnight.

"But you wanna' happy one don't you? Like you said earlier?" Chris was suddenly concerned. "You're not getting cold feet are you? About the job, about us?" It was almost a plea.

"No, of course not. I want this with all my heart, with all my very soul. You'll see." Then Piers returned the kiss, his eyes ablaze with color. Chris closed his in ecstasy, and when he eventually opened them again, he was alone.

Back inside the house, Claire was still up. She smiled when she saw Chris enter the room and held him in her arms.

"I, er, I thought you and Piers might, you know..."

He returned the embrace. "No, he said to keep it simple for now. Jeez, what a day! this thing with Piers, your plans for the ranch. My head's still spinning." He smiled as he sat down. "We don't do things by halves, do we sis?"

"That's the Redfield way, all or nothing." she laughed. "I know I shouldn't, but I think I'll have a nightcap. You?"

"Mmm yes, a scotch please. And let me have a proper look at those figures of yours. I owe you that much at least after all the hard work you must have put into them."

Chris read through them as they relaxed with their drinks. "I'm no expert, but they seem fine to me, possibly even too cautious. I know! How 'bout we run them past Ben and Mr Alfonso sometime soon?"

"Sure, I was going to suggest something similar. They _are_ the experts! I'll e-mail them my figures tomorrow, and we can all discuss them later."

"Good, then I'll invite them both over, say next Saturday?" suggested Chris.

Great! I'll fix up one of the spare rooms for Mr Alfonso, it's a long drive back to his spread, unless he comes in that helicopter of his."

"And Ben? Is he gonna' stay the night too?"

"Christopher Redfield! What sort of a girl do you think I am?"

Chris leant over and kissed her. "One who deserves as much happiness as I can give her."

Claire kissed him back. "Well, with the head-start you've made with Piers, I'd better put my spurs on then. Ben's a bit....well, let's just say he's a bit shy."

Chris laughed. "Ha! Really? Ben? Perhaps he's got someone else?"

Claire gave her brother the killer look. "That's not funny Christopher! Fortunately, I happen to know it's not true either. I have made _extensive_ enquiries, believe me. He just needs a nudge in the right direction. Like _most_ cowboys, you know?"

"Hey, don't look at me sis, it's gonna' be difficult enough for me explaining to everyone about Piers, let alone matchmaking for you and Ben. I'm not best placed to tell him about wooing the fairer sex now am I?"

"Hmm, agreed. Perhaps you should do as Piers says and keep things simple for now. People will figure it out for themselves soon enough I guess. But, if you do see the opportunity, just make sure you give Ben a shove in my direction. OK?"

"OK sis, and you can return the favor. Let me know if anyone sees Piers and me as a problem. Your better at this social awareness stuff than I am. I probably wouldn't recognize it, or just...."

"Punch them?"

"Exactly!"

As they exchanged goodnight kisses, Claire held on to her brothers arm. "Chris, you do know what you're doing? With Piers I mean."

"Honestly? I haven't a clue. All I know is he saved my life, and he makes me happy. I cain't explain it, but it's like we've known each other for years. We just seem made for one another. And that's good enough for me."

"Then it's good enough for me too. Love you bro."

"Love you more sis. Oh, and you'd better make up that other spare room, just in case Ben decides to stay." Chris deftly dodged the cushion that suddenly came flying towards his head, but not the look or the scream.

"Argh, brothers!"

************************

The following Saturday morning Piers asked Chris if he could borrow the truck to go in to town.

"Um, sure. You do drive?"

"Yeh......" Piers grinned as Chris handed him the keys, he was already sat inside the cab. ".....like I ride, well!" He gunned the engine of the old Ford and it disappeared down the track in a cloud of swirling dust, the rear wheels slewing on the gravel.

Chris looked on dubiously as he scratched the back of his head. "Oh! That's alright then......"

"Where's he off to in such a hurry?" asked Claire, coming out to see what all the noise was about.

"Said he wanted to go into town."

"Damn, I needed some things for the meal tonight, I don't have the time to go in. Does he have a cell?"

"Never seen him with one, I've never asked. He just seems to know when he's needed."

"You noticed that too? Oh, well, how about a plain ol' barbecue? There's plenty of meat in the freezer, that's one thing we do have. And there should be some beer left if Andy didn't drink it all." sighed Claire.

"Heck, we're ranchers, we _live_ on beer and barbecues, I read it in some magazine." said Chris, grinning broadly.

"Christopher Redfield, are you being ironic?"

"Could be, if I knew what it meant, Ha! I'll get the old Dutch oven out, clean it and rig it up for you. Gotta' hang around for a feed delivery this morning anyways."

"I like this new helpful brother of mine, Piers sure has worked his magic on you."

"Let's hope he works it on Ben and Carl Alfonso tonight too. The Lazy-R needs a break."

He can work it all he likes on Mr Alfonso, but if anyone's gonna' be working magic on Ben tonight, it's me. Understand!"

"Yes ma'am. Er, was that irony?"

************************

That evening Claire waited inside the ranch house, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach. She'd dressed-up for the occasion, a dark red cocktail dress that complemented rather than outshone her red hair. She normally reserved it for social functions at the University; and she couldn't remember the last time she'd worn a dress at the Lazy-R, not as an adult anyways. She'd decided that Ben was going to get the full works, hence the dress, hence the butterflies. Oh, and the nerves. She knew a man like Carl Alfonso would scrutinize her plans for the ranch closely. He had a reputation for being financially astute, as well as for being something of a recluse. She hadn't met him, though Chris had on a few occasions. It promised to be an interesting evening.

She heard the sound of a car horn and looked out of the window. It was Ben, in a shiny black pick-up. She was just about to call out when she saw Piers step silently out of the shadows. He was holding something behind his back. Ben gave him a hug like they were old pals, and Piers gave him....flowers and chocolates! She rubbed her eyes in disbelief. Was Piers two timing Chris? With Ben? What the...! When she opened her eyes again Ben was standing by his truck, holding the gifts, alone. She shook her head, 'It must be the nerves.' she told herself. 'I'm imagining things now!' She ran down to meet him excitedly.

"Why, Miss Claire, you look.....you look beautiful. Say, these are for you, but they don't do you justice." He smiled, shyly, as he gave Claire the flowers and chocolates.

"Why thank you kind sir." she said, fluttering her eyelashes ever so slightly. "How thoughtful." She took the presents, and read the little gift cards. _To the prettiest red head on the range, with deep affection, Ben._ They were both written in Ben's strong hand, she knew it. She reached up and put her arms around his neck then kissed him full on the lips. "With _my_ deep affection." was all she said.

Just as they were about to enter the house, another car horn sounded. Claire turned back to look as Carl Alfonso arrived. Piers had reappeared, this time with Chris. Whilst Chris greeted Carl, Piers opened the passenger door and a petite blonde stepped out. It was Jill Valentine. She was a captain at the army range which was a neighbor to all three ranches. Piers bowed slightly, then gave her his arm to escort her in. Carl slapped him on the shoulders in friendly greeting. How did Piers seem to know everyone? Just like he'd seemed to know her? Then she and Ben were caught up in the greetings and the questions were forgotten.

If Chris had any qualms earlier, he hid them well. He'd decided that he would try and be by Piers' side the whole night, and preferably with an arm draped around his shoulders. 'That should strike the right balance of keeping things simple.' he'd reckoned. 'Actions, not words.'

As it turned out, the only person who was a little uncomfortable with events was Jill. Chris had invited the young army captain to provide some female company for Claire. And to even-up the male to female ratio a little. The cowboy who'd come out was still old-fashioned enough to worry about such things. Jill was the Civilian Liaison Officer at the range, and also acted as the Fire Prevention Officer; so she was no stranger to Ben or Carl. She was also a skilled horsewoman. The army used horses to get around some of the more difficult terrain on the range, and the year before she had joined in at round-up time on the Lazy-R. Jill was looking forward to it again this fall. But it was Chris Redfield she'd really had hopes for, once. The captain was too polite to let it show, but she couldn't help but say something to Piers during a rare moment Chris left his side.

"You're a lucky man Mr Nivans, you seem to have beaten me to him." she forced a smile.

"Don't give up hope Jill, there's always the future. And please call me Piers." He gave her his best, and most devastating smile, and she found herself momentarily lost in those sparkling eyes.

"Er, yes, Piers it is then." Jill said as she tried to regain her thoughts. "What do you mean, the future?

"The next time perhaps, we'll see."

And before she had time to ask what Piers what on earth he meant, Chris was back by his side.

"Oh good, you two making friends?" he said, totally oblivious to Jill's aspirations. "Piers, come and meet Carl Alfonso, he's talking to Claire about her plans. Excuse us please Jill."

Chris formally introduced Piers to Carl, "Mr Alfonso, meet my new hand, Piers Nivans."

"Ah yes, we met outside. Claire's been telling me all about you. The mysterious Mr Nivans, she calls you, ha ha! Are you a mystery young man?"

Claire looked somewhat embarrassed, but Piers smiled affably. "People say the same thing about you Carl. There's a lot of mystery about." The hazel eyes sparked and flamed.

Carl chuckled, "Yes, perhaps there is, perhaps there is." He was lost in thought for a moment, smiling to himself. Then he looked at Chris.

"Claire, your figures are fine, as far as they go. But there's a significant flaw in the plan. You're one ranch hand short Christopher. You simply can't do it with two. It's a question of care for your guests. For your horses too, with the additional workload they'll be having."

Chris looked downcast. "I guess your right, we hadn't thought of that. But we're, um.... Well, to be honest, we're running a little tight here at the moment."

"Don't look so worried Christopher, I think I have a solution. One that would benefit us both if you helped me."

"I, I don't understand, how can the Lazy-R help you?" Chris scratched his head.

"We need a horseman Chris, and Carl here needs somewhere for his ward to live and work. Isn't that right Carl?" interjected Piers.

"Yes precisely! I must say you're remarkably well informed young man." Carl replied, surprised and amused.

"Ha, ha, I know what I know, ask Chris."

"You seem to know more than I do right now." replied a thoroughly confused Chris. "I'm sorry Mr Alfonso, Piers is a little...." he couldn't think of a suitable word, "......a little bit...."

"Yes, I think I understand Christopher. Well, he happens to be right. My ward is the son of my ex-foreman. He was abusing his son, so I fired him, and took on the role of guardian myself. You see, he's a developmentally disabled adult." Chris looked at Carl quizzically.

"He's an autistic savant. He has trouble running his life, but I've never met a man who rides so well and knows so much about horses. It's intuitive."

Chris wasn't sure. "I don't know, seems an awful lot to take on. Wouldn't there be legal responsibilities and such?"

Piers interrupted again. "Chris, this kid simply needs a chance, doesn't he Carl?"

"Why, er yes, that's it on the button."

"You would be a special conservator, or more likely a limited guardian Chris." Piers explained helpfully. "Responsible for his employment and job training, but not his general welfare or finances, that would still be Carl's role."

"Exactly! You know your stuff young man. Yes Christopher, there would be some legalities, young Piers here seems familiar with them. But they would be straightforward, and shouldn't take long. A few weeks, by the end of the month certainly. I would consider it a great personal favor if you would agree to my proposal. What do you say my boy?"

"But then why let him go Mr Alfonso, if he's so talented? I have to ask." Claire had been listening closely all this time, and like Chris, she had her doubts.

"And quite right too, I'd ask the same question if I were in your place. Honestly? Because he spooks all the other hands. And because whatever else he was, his father, Sean, was a good foreman. The other hands respected him, even though he was an awnry sob if you'll pardon me Miss Claire. But he couldn't accept his son because he wasn't 'normal', and neither will they. They're a good team, I can't just get rid of them for the boy's sake. I'm a business man. So he needs a fresh start. Somewhere close by, so I can continue to keep an eye on him. And somewhere with fewer, but more caring people around him. From what I've seen tonight, I believe the Lazy-R fits the bill perfectly. And naturally, I will meet all his expenses. He could be that extra hand you need to make your sister's plan succeed Chris. What do you say?"

"I'm not sure. It would be a big responsibility. What do you think Claire? We could certainly do with the extra help. Perhaps we could eventually develop a stud line if he's good with horses. You know I've always wanted to do that."

"With that wild black stallion of yours? I thought you were chasing a dream."

"Well, at least let's give Mr Alfonso's proposal a try sis."

"We should all have a chance for our dreams to come true Claire." Piers nodded pointedly in the direction of Ben Airhart, who was talking to Jill on the other side of the room. "Carl's ward might have dreams too. Nothing mysterious in that."

It was Claire's turn to make a big decision, and Piers had deftly maneuvered her into a corner.

"Of course, of course." Chris and Piers both looked so enthusiastic now, how could she refuse? "Alright Chris, let's do it."

Capital, capital! Here's my hand on it. And Piers, I can't tell you how glad I am to have met you tonight, you're a lucky man Chris. I'll bring my ward over sometime next week if I may, to introduce him?"

"Fine, let us know the day before and we'll make sure everything's ready here." said Chris. "Oh, by the way, what's his name?"

"Finnbar, Finnbar Macauley, but he prefers to be called Finn. In fact he won't answer to anything else. It's the name _he_ chose, not his father's choice you see. That's how he deals with unpleasant things. In his mind he puts them in a box and screws the lid down tight. But put a horse in front of him, well! You can talk all you like about horse whisperers and such, but Finn knocks them all into a cocked hat. You'll see, you won't have any horse problems with him around. And if you do want to develop that side of the ranch business, he's your man. He's a natural."

As Chris and Carl moved out to the BBQ, deep in conversation, Claire put her hand on Piers' arm. "You were right Piers, we all have our dreams. You must tell me yours one day, mystery man." She smiled and looked over at Ben. "But right now, I'm going to chase mine. Thanks for the reminder!"

************************

_In the Transcendancy, the white light shimmered. Back and forth, soft and hard. Subtle differences in intensity and wavelength. In a place where dimensionality and time were already so warped as to be virtually meaningless, two forms coalesced:_

_He's touched them all now, how interesting, he's never been so close!_

_He's learning every time, remembering more._

_Well, he should remember he only has one wild card left. Do you think he'll use it?_

_Let's see shall we?_

_Ah, you enjoy the uncertainty don't you?_

_It makes me feel.....more.....more like them._

_How odd you are sometimes! But tell me, is this the endgame? Is everything in place?_

_No, not quite, but soon it will be._

_When they are all be together?_

_Yes, what do they call it? The round-up, ha ha!_

_There it is again, that curious noise you make. How?_

_I really don't know. It seems automatic, given a juxtaposition of certain events, some sort of ancient transcended reflex we've all but forgotten. I think it helps them cope, with their brief existence._

_They certainly are strange creatures, I find it hard to believe we're related. Such a pity they have so short a span. It will be interesting now the clever one is joining them. To observe their different reactions, ha ha! Oh, goodness, I just did it too, how extraordinary! What did you call it?_

_They call it laughter. I call it.....living._

************************

".......This is Mr Redfield son, he's going to be your new boss."

The sad green eyes set in a round face framed by short, wavy black hair looked around, bemused.

Chris put his hand out. "Hello Finn, you can call me Chris if you want."

Finn looked at, but ignored, the large hand offered him. "I had eggs for breakfast."

"Oh, um, that's good." Chris was so taken aback he said the first thing that came into his head. "Er, scrambled or fried?"

"No, chicken's silly!"

Piers just laughed as Chris stood open mouthed. "Ha, ha, good joke Finn."

Finn looked curiously at Piers, at and around him. "I know you. You're my guardian..."

Chris interrupted. "No Finn, that's Mr Alfonso here."

"You didn't let me finish Mr Chris." said Finn reproachfully, never taking his eyes off Piers. "I was talking to your man...he's my guardian angel. They're pretty, can I touch them?"

The hazel eyes whirled and glowed in warning. Piers shook his head and put a finger to his lips.

"Oh, secrets, OK, I won't tell." Finn smiled conspiratorially.

Chris, by now totally bemused, dropped his hand. "Yes, er, pleased to meet you." But he hadn't given up trying to communicate with the young man. "Um, it's a nice day Finn, don't you think?"

Finn looked up at the sky, shading his green eyes against the sun. "I think heaven is blue Mr Chris......."

************************

And so the hot Summer rolled on at the Lazy-R. Claire was now working from the ranch and things with Ben were proceeding well. Very well indeed now they could spend more time together. She had run a trial guest week, with some folks who Carl had recommended and it had been a great success. Chris just felt happier and happier every day he spent in Piers' company; whilst Finn blossomed and grew in confidence under Chris and Piers' kindly instruction.

Piers himself muscled-up, just as he'd thought he would. When he wore one of Pete Carney's shirts, which wasn't often during the day, they were a now a tight fit. But it gave him little pleasure; he sensed he wouldn't need them for much longer. He could feel events were drawing to a conclusion, as the round-up neared. But although Piers tried to keep his darker thoughts to himself, Finn had somehow picked up on them.

"Don't worry Piers, I'll look after them for you, when..." he said shyly to Piers one evening in the bunkhouse.

Piers' eyes whirled and sparked, his features suddenly hardened, aged. "When what? You know, don't you Finn?"

Finn looked mournful. "People think I'm dumb, but I'm not."

"I know Finn, you're probably the most perceptive person I've ever met. But this must stay our secret or things won't work out. OK?"

"Oh yes, like your.....?" Finn reached out with a trembling hand.

Piers smiled, his face regaining it's normal composure once more. "Yes Finn, just like them!"

************************

A couple of weeks before the round-up was due to start, Claire got a call from the faculty head of the Graduate School of Business at the university.

"Claire, my dear, the new semester's about to commence and we find ourselves rather short of office space. Would you mind if I move you?"

"Er, no Dean, I guess not, anything to help out. Where am I headed?"

"It's an attic room, in the Registrar's building. Best I can do at the moment I'm afraid Claire. I do hope you don't mind, could you come in do you think....?"

"Sure, give me a couple of days. How 'bout I see you Thursday?"

"Perfect my dear, see you then, goodbye."

************************

Claire climbed the stairs to the top of the Registration Building, the stairs becoming progressively less grand the higher up she got, till at last simple stone steps and iron railings led to the attic. She unlocked the door with the key the Registrar had given her and felt for a light switch in the gloom. Rows of fluorescent lights crackled and hummed as they came on. Some flashing angrily, as if annoyed at the unexpected disturbance. Beneath them row upon row of shelving units, stacked with box binders, disappeared into the flickering distance. These were the old hard-copy archives.

Her nose twitched as she entered the room. It smelt musty, and she could feel the damp. There was a desk close by the door. Covered with a fine layer of dust, as was the folded newspaper that lay on top of it. Claire picked it up idly, reading the date. The Stanford Daily, September 17th 2000. Why was that date familiar? She turned it over and a headline caught her eye. **_Promising Stanford Graduate Disappears._** She read on, with mounting incredulity. _Piers Nivans, a 24 year old Stanford graduate, conducting post-graduate research into viral immunology has not been seen for the last 2 days....._ She stopped reading and squinted at the fuzzy black and white photo that accompanied the article. It looked like it was an enlargement from a old 'class' photo, it could have been anyone. Besides, that would make him what, 40 years old now? It couldn't be, just a weird coincidence! But nonetheless she felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She shivered. It must be this room, she thought, it was a bit spooky. Then she remembered that the ranks of binders contained the old student records. She looked along the rows, E-F, K-L M, ah N! Her eyes scanned the shelves full of binders. Na, Ne, here it is, Ni. She flicked through the contents. Nivans, Piers, a photo showing the same fuzzy image, course and examination results. But no leaving date. The records had never been closed, the file was still open. How? Why? Then the significance of the newspaper date hit her. September 2000, the month her parents had died in a car crash. She was barely ten at the time. For some inexplicable reason, it didn't seem like a coincidence anymore.

Suddenly Claire felt faint, sick. Clutching the newspaper she ran from the room, only stopping once she was outside the building, gulping in lungfuls of fresh air. She tried to regain her composure as she slowly made her way back to her office in the Graduate School of Business. She sat down at her desk and switched on the computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She typed in Stanford Daily, September 2000, Piers Nivans and hit search.

Three results came up. The first was the article in the old paper now lying next to her PC. The second was a report of missing Stanford graduate Piers Nivans' body being found in the Lower Crystal Springs reservoir a week later. A colored image scrolled down slowly. Claire put a hand up to her open mouth.

"Oh my God!"


	6. Endgame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all really. The last chapter and the mystery of Piers Nivans is finally revealed. It's sad in places, but hopefully you'll find the end uplifting. A new game awaits.

**Endgame**

Claire looked on in shock as the handsome face of Piers Nivans was slowly revealed by the image scrolling down her computer screen. A Piers Nivans who had died 16 years ago. She couldn't believe it, she certainly didn't understand it.

"Keep calm Claire, it's a mistake, or his father, or uncle, or something equally logical. It's not Piers, how could it possibly be?" But the eyes, they were unmistakable. And those two little moles on his left cheek. Whoever it was, was identical. The same color hair, the same golden skin. It _was_ Piers.

She opened the third search result. It was a report on the autopsy carried out on the body recovered from the Crystal Springs reservoir and later identified as that of one Piers Nivans, a graduate missing from Stanford University. She scanned through the results. 'Death by drowning some 4-5 days before the body was discovered. Quantities of LSD and other narcotic substances found in the bloodstream together with high alcohol levels. Aged 25, no known relatives.' Claire did the math, he would be 41 now. 'A promising life cut short.....' The report was accompanied by the same color photograph. No mistake there.

41? Whoever _this_ Piers Nivans was, he must have left a child from some previous liaison. It was the only sensible conclusion she could draw. But even that seemed fat-fetched. He would have to have been a father round about age 16. Ok, that _was_ possible. Or perhaps they were related? But with that age difference and looking identical? And the report said no known relatives, which seemed to rule out that theory anyway. So what happened to the mother, or the child? Perhaps he never knew? And then there was the location, not far from where her parents had died in the car crash a few days earlier. She still shuddered at the thought. Was it all a fantastic co-incidence?

Claire printed copies of the results, then shut the machine down. She looked at her watch, she was running late. She had to pick Andy up before returning to the Lazy-R. He was going back for the autumn roundup. Claire put the sheets into her bag and left the room hurriedly. She'd have to sort out new accommodation with the Dean another time. Suddenly it no longer seemed important.

************************

_Will he use his last wild card on the female I wonder? The one called Claire?_

_He has to._

_Why? If she already knows, or thinks she does?_

_She won't believe him otherwise, she doesn't have the imagination._

_I think he'll save it, for the finale._

_And I think he might lose after all._

_We shall see._

_A side wager?_

_Ha, ha! How....human! What are the words they use?....You are on!_

_************************_

Claire saw Andy waiting at the bus station and tooted impatiently, twice. He threw his gear into the trunk and got in. She pulled away before he even had time to buckle up.

"Good mornin' Miss Claire, you seems in a mighty hurry!"

"It's a long drive.....I want to get going, Ok?"

"Whatever you say's miss, jest mind out fer more o' them red lights like those you went through back there."

She turned to look at him as she slowed down. "Oh Andy, I'm sorry.....I had a nasty surprise earlier."

"Well, let's git clear o' the city, then we can have a nice long chat about it. Would you like me to drive?"

"Later perhaps." she forced a smile. "Let's do what you said and get out of here first."

They made small talk until they were off the freeway.....

"I like the new teeth Andy, good color."

"That danged Dentist! He wanted 'em bright white, says that how they's dun in Californi-ay. I tells him I wants 'em yeller, like they's was a'for. I told him as soon as those little tombstones is in place I'm gonna' be chewin baccy agin, not suckin' it no more! So we settled for somethin' in between, light yeller or dirty white, I dunno's which."

"It's like you've always had them."

"I aller's did have them, a'for I didn't! Damn! pardon my French, you don't knows what it's like, chewin' and tastin' real food agin a'fer all this time. Like I've died and gone to heaven!"

For some reason Andy's last remark made Claire shiver. "Let's find somewhere to pull-over now." was all she said.

They stopped in a little gas station to change places. Andy adjusted the driver's seat for his spindly bowed legs and they pulled away, the road slowly climbing before them, the Sierras rising in the far distance.

"Alright Miss Claire, spill the beans, what's on yer mind?"

"Piers......Piers Nivans."

"Oh."

"Do you believe in ghosts Andy?"

"Say what?"

"Ghosts, or reincarnation, I don't know what. Time travel?"

Andy slammed on the brakes. "Are you alright? Shall I find a Doctor?"

"No, I'm fine.....well, I'm not, but I'm alright......physically anyway. Mentally.....well, I had a shock today, at the university."

"How 'bout you tells me then? 'Sted o' givin' me shocks an' alls! I'm here to listen Miss Claire, ain't going nowhere's else. Take it nice and slow, so's I can keep up. Starting from the beginning."

Claire recounted what had happened earlier that morning. It didn't make any more sense to her in the retelling. But she valued Andy's opinion. He had always been loyal to the Redfields and the Lazy-R.

"What should I do Andy? Should I tell Chris? Confront Piers about his background? And the date, it's when we lost Mom and Pop, exactly."

Andy was silent for a moment, if he'd had some baccy, he would have chewed it. He reached his decision.

"Nuthin'" he pronounced, with an air of finality.

"What! How can you say that? It's not nothing, it's....Oh, I don't know what it is, but it's something, surely?"

"Listen Miss. You says yourself it cain't be Piers, the ages are all wrong. And there ain't no ghosts, even I knows that. If'n it's Piers' pappy, or whoever, it's his business, not ours. If'n he don't wanna' talk about it, you gotta' respect the man's privacy. What harm has he done? Only good as far as I can see, you ask your brother, saved the Boss's life."

"But the time, the place!"

"One o'them co-incidents, they happens all the time. Don't fret now, yer jest upset, moving offices, worrying about the ranch, young Ben. 'Nuff to turn anyone's head I reckon."

"I wish I could be so sure Andy. Piers is, well you've got to admit, he is a mystery. I mean, what did he say to you, that night you saw him in the showers with Chris? You came back to supper singing a different tune to when you stormed out."

Andy scratched his jaw. "I don't recall Miss, other than it was awful sad, and he was in earnest. He made me....well....he made me believe in him. You should too."

"I want to Andy, but...."

"Then that's all there is to it, no buts! Let it ride. Perhaps the man's got secrets, perhaps he ain't. All you's got is fanciful notions, ain't nothin' logical. Be happy, for the Boss, for Piers, for the Lazy-R. And fer yersel, lessen you like feelin' sad." Andy looked at her, as if challenging Claire to contradict him.

"Alright, Andy, I'll do it your way, for now. But the first sign of trouble, I'll speak out."

"Won't be no trouble Miss Claire, trust me. Now, all that jawin' has made these here new teeth ready to eat somethin'. Let's find us a diner."

************************

Back at the Lazy-R Claire quickly realized that Chris and Piers had now become inseparable. She felt guilty, they were so happy together. If she still had any reservations she kept them to herself. Andy was right, it wasn't logical. And Finn's arrival had certainly added a new dynamic to life at the Lazy-R. Claire watched the men ride out together early one morning, Chris had found his family at last. She had to smile, they were whooping and hollering like schoolboys at the start of their holidays, Rinty barking excitedly alongside. So did that make her the teacher? She laughed to herself. In the movies, school ma'ams got wooed by handsome cowboys, and Ben was coming round that evening.....third time that week. Perhaps, after the roundup? She allowed herself to dream.

************************

The roundup began the first week in September. The three ranches; Ben's to the north, Carl's to the south and Chris' Lazy-R in-between, pooled their resources to round up the herds and brand the new calves. Then they counted and selected the cattle to go to on the long drive north to the railhead and then to market.

Ben's ranch was closest to the rail depot, and his family had always used it, whilst Carl, who could have used trucks from his own ranch, preferred to maintain the customs of the old west. He liked to think of himself as one of the last great cattlemen, in the tradition of John Chisum or William Randolph Hearst. For Chris it was a simple question of economics. He couldn't afford either method in reality, but Ben and Carl helped him out because that's what ranchers do. They were all family.

The cattle drive itself took nearly a week. At best, the herds only managed 15 miles a day. Up from Carl's and through the Lazy-R. Water and grazing were the limiting factors here, rather the terrain. And so on to the north of Ben's spread and the railhead.

On their own property, Chris, Carl and Ben acted as trail boss, riding ahead of the herd, scouting for fresh-water and pasture to bed the herd down at night. Otherwise they acted as point riders, leading the herd in the right direction. Andy and Piers worked flank and swing with the other hands, keeping the cattle together, and bringing back strays. Claire and Jill rode drag, at the rear of the herd, pushing and prodding the slowpokes along the trail. It wasn't the best view of the cattle , but it gave them plenty of time to chat, mostly about men!

Finn, with his expertise and love of horses was the Lazy-R's wrangler, driving and caring for the remuda, the string of saddle horses from which the hands took their mounts each day. But when he could, he would slip away and join Piers on flank. He even took his shirt off, trying to get a tan like Piers, but Piers made him put it back on soon after he began to broil. He laughed. "Ha, ha Finny! Some cowboys are just born to stay pale! And you are he."

************************

The return journey was much less stressful. Chris had it mind to round up some of the wild horses that roamed up along the high ridge of the Lazy-R. And, at Piers' suggestion, he invited Ben and Carl to join him. It was a welcome diversion after all the hard work. And Chris, of course, had a particular black stallion in mind. The same one that had killed his uncle back in the spring......

There was an old corral near the ridge, Piers took Finn up there the first afternoon, to make sure it was sound, whilst the others made camp aways below. They would drive the wild horses there the next day. And then Chris would bust his bronco.

After completing some repairs, the two cowboys decided to spend the evening there, away from the others. Piers sat in front of the fire, hugging the warmth, Rinty lay quietly at his feet.

"You call him Ruff don't you? I've heard you, when you think no one's listening." said Finn, shyly.

"Yes, I do."

"Was he a Ruff in the other places?"

"Sometimes, and he will be again."

"I was right then?" Finn grinned, he liked it when he was proved right.

Piers smiled. "Yes Finn, you were right, all along."

Piers was silent for a long while, absorbing the heat from the dancing flames, then he sighed, as if he'd finally made his mind up about some difficult decision. He spoke, quietly.

"Do you know what the expression, 'To Cowboy Up', means Finn?"

"Not really. My father used to tell me to cowboy up all the time. I never understood what he meant. So when I didn't, he would get angry, and then I'd cry, and then he'd hit me." Finn was silent for a while as he sorted the memories and put them back in their respective boxes again. The green eyes were sad, but he smiled as Piers laid a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"It means to get back on your horse if you fall off, it means to pick yourself up when you're face down in the dirt, to keep on trying until you succeed. To just suck it up and get on with life, however hard the trail."

"Suck it up?"

"Yeh. Don't let the pain and the tiredness show, don't lose control of your emotions, don't whine or whinge, just grit your teeth, tighten your cinch and get the job done, like a real man, like a cowboy."

"Like putting the bad things back in the box? So people don't see?"

"That's it Finn, you got it! Sometimes a man needs a helping hand to cowboy up. Sometimes the pain and the hurt are so strong it doesn't seem as if he can ever succeed. Mr Chris will be like that soon. Will you help him Finn? Help him cowboy up when I'm not around?"

"I could call you."

"Ha, ha! You could. Trouble is I won't hear you, not where I'm going. You've got to do this without my help. And I've got to know you'll do it. Can I rely on you? I think you can, but you need to believe it yourself."

"So I must cowboy up to help Mr Chris cowboy up? That sounds funny! But I'll do it, because you're my special friend, and Mr Chris is your special friend isn't he? So that makes him my friend too."

"That's good Finn, I knew you'd understand. And after I've gone, you can tell Mr Chris all our secrets. Because I want you and him to remember me, properly. So I give you my permission, alright? You won't see me, but I'll be watching you both and looking after you."

"In the blue, flying?"

"Yes Finn, in the blue, way, way up there. And in here too." Piers pointed to Finn's heart.

"And in here as well." Finn tapped his head. "All my friends live in here."

Piers smiled. "Look at me Finn."

The hazel eyes glowed in the firelight, swirling patterns of yellow and gold danced in the irises. Finn sat mesmerized as a strong blue light suffused his mind.

"I'm going to show you some more things Finn, because you already know some of it, don't you?"

"Yes Piers, like your wings, they're our secret."

"You can tell Mr Chris when you think he's ready. It will comfort him, when he is feeling sad. You must look after him now. You Promise?

"Yes, of course....." Finn watched the images as they formed and faded inside his head. "Oh, Piers, it's beautiful.....just like I imagined. Is that you?"

The face before him had suddenly grown old, or was it a trick of the firelight? Finn couldn't be sure at first. Then, "It is you, isn't it? All that time, so many lives."

"Yes Finn, it's me, all of them. Watch now.....!"

_He's used it! I thought he'd save it for the girl, or the man._

_He's getting weak. He doesn't have to try so hard with the clever one, he's already guessed most of it._

_So much for my plan._

_Ha, ha! I win this hand I think?_

_Is it time then, for the endgame? He's touched them all, brought them together this time, just as you said he would._

_Yes, everything's in place. Not long now, not long at all._

************************

Chris, Claire, Andy, Ben and Carl joined the Piers and Finn early the next morning. Chris thought Piers looked pale and drawn. He hugged him close in greeting.

"Are you Ok Piers? You look tired."

"I'm fine babe. Just need to get the sun on me." But the strength of Piers' embrace and it's lingering nature suggested otherwise. He clung to Chris as if he never wanted to let go. Only Claire's gentle cough brought them back to the present.

"Um, I think we're all ready now bro."

"Oh, yes. Er, right. Ok, Claire, Finn, you stay here, ready to funnel the horses into the corral, keep Rinty with you too. Ben, Carl, you go up to the left, Piers and I will take the right. And Andy, you get behind 'em, stop 'em doubling back. We'll give you half an hour to get in position"

"You got it Boss."

"If nothing else, I want that stallion today, Ok?" There was a gleam in Chris' eyes, his enthusiasm was infectious. Only Piers felt a desire to be violently sick.

As Andy rode off, Chris checked the corral one last time and the adjacent stockade. That's where he would bust that sonofabitch, once and for all.

"Give us a hand Piers!" Chris called out to his partner. "I want this gate tighter than a cattleman's wallet."

Piers had already taken his shirt off, trying to soak up the early morning sun. Chris grinned as they worked side by side. "I love you Piers Nivans. And don't you ever forget it."

"I never have forgotten Christopher Redfield, and I never will." Chris was lost for a moment, in the swirling hazel eyes and that enigmatic, angelic smile.

"Piers, what do you mean...?"

Piers lent in and kissed Chris passionately.

"You'll see....."

_Oh, this is most pleasing. He's almost completed this level._

_Yes, if he sticks to the plan. He's never been so close before_

_You and that plan! But I think he will, I sense he wants to stay._

_So this could be the last single-person game we play?_

_Yes, then it's on to the final level, the team play._

_Ah, the ensemble piece! Well, let's see shall we?_

_************************_

Claire and Finn heard the sound of hooves around the same time they saw the cloud of dust descending from the high ridge. It looked as if the roundup had been a success. They opened the gate to the corral and positioned themselves either side. Rinty laid down a ways off, ready to intervene if the herd spooked and broke loose.

The men pushed a dozen wild horses in front of them. A mix of mares, colts and some yearlings, lead by the magnificent black stallion. Chris' brown eyes shone in triumph as he watched Claire and Finn close the corral gate. Everyone was excited, except Piers, who seemed unmoved by the scene. Even Finn was too busy to notice him. He was enthralled by the sight and had already began to assess the horseflesh before him. He spoke avidly with Chris and his guardian Carl. Ben and Claire looked on, arm in arm. Only Andy sidled up to Piers.

"Penny fer yer thoughts young 'un."

"He can't ride him Andy.....Chris.....it'll kill him, like his uncle."

"I knows, but who's gonna' tell him? He's had his heart set on that black devil for nigh on three years."

Piers looked Andy full in the face. "Just don't let him stop me Andy, or the others. Do whatever you have to. Threaten to shoot him if necessary! You understand?"

Andy nodded and blinked back the tears that had suddenly welled up in his eyes. "Good luck son."

************************

They roped the stallion and got him in the stockade. He stood silently, glaring balefully at them all. Chris was sat balanced on the top rail, his legs hooked underneath him on the rail below. He pulled his gloves on.

"Chris, please don't. It doesn't feel right, I'm frightened." It was Claire, she suddenly looked ill at ease. "Let it go, remember Uncle Bob."

"I can't sis, it's a Redfield thing, you know that." Chris turned and smiled reassuringly at Claire. It was the chance Piers had been waiting for. He didn't see the young cowboy step in front of him. Didn't see the golden fist swing back and strike like a rattler. His unseeing eyes rolled back in their sockets and he tumbled backwards onto the dirt.

"I'm sorry Chris, but you heard the lady." Piers shook his left hand. Then he turned, took a short run and leapt onto the back of the stallion. Ben and Carl quickly let go the lead ropes they'd been holding and ran for the safety of the rails.

As the animal bucked and reared Piers grimaced in pain, he must have broken his left hand punching Chris. He wound the reins around tight his right arm to give himself some control. As he did he sensed another presence, the horse was clearly terrified. "You're part of it too, aren't you fella?" Piers tried to communicate with the horse as it twisted and turned beneath him. He bent his head down, close to the horse's ear.

"C'mon boy. Fight it, get it out of your head, don't let it beat you!" Piers smiled, he could feel the horse relaxing under him, it was winning the fight. He thought he was winning too. That this, at long, long last, was the time. THE time. "Nearly there boy, we're gonna make it, both of us....."

The others watching didn't see it. The white light, so hard it hurt, so cruel. But the horse saw it, and Piers. "Noooooo!" Piers screamed, he was so close this time. "Please, please....don't.......!"

In the stunned silence that followed his fall, Piers knew he'd lost once again, already he could feel the cold beginning to seep into his bones. Faces and voices surrounded and overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes......

The big horse stood nearby, impassive, calm. In the instant before the light, before Piers' fall, it had been broken, but so had Piers. Ben and Carl led the stallion away, whilst the others crowded around the fallen rider.

"Don't move him!" "Give him some air." "Piers, Piers! Can you hear me?"

"Chris? Is that you? I'm s, so cold....I, I never did like the cold!" Piers coughed.

"Hush my love, don't talk, we're gonna' get you a Doctor." Chris took the blanket Finn had run to fetch and placed it tenderly over Piers' body.

"Chris, I need to tell you something, just listen, please? Sixteen years ago I was responsible for the death of your parents." Chris looked on uncomprehending. Piers let it sink in.

"I ran out into the road, in front of them, all those years ago. They swerved to miss me, lost control, hit the tree. It was me. I was high, drunk, frightened. I ran away, fell into the water, drowned. I died the same night your parents did, but I never passed on."

Chris couldn't speak.

"I was sent back by beings called Transcendents, sent back to sacrifice my life over and over to save you, in all the different realities where you exist. To atone for the damage I'd caused in your life, because you are special."

"Transcendents?"

"Yes, for them it's an intellectual game, like chess with peoples lives. You’re part of the game too. You all are."

"What! Piers, this is madness, you've got concussion, banged your head.....where's the Doctor? Andy, Finn!"

"No Doctors please Chris, it's too late for that. It's all true, I promise you my love. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to deceive you, you must believe me. It's my fate you see, to save you, at the cost of my own life. Claire knows, don't you?"

Claire nodded. "It's the truth Chris, at least the part about the Mom and Pop. Piers was a Stanford graduate, his body was found a week after.....after the accident. He died by drowning, but the autopsy showed he'd taken drugs, a lot of drugs."

"No, No, This is insane, Piers, tell me it's not true?"

"It is Chris. Andy knows, and Finn too."

"He's right Boss, I remembers now what he showed me, him and all the different yous, all the time's a'for."

"I, I've always known Mr Chris." said Finn shyly. "Piers is special. You don't see what I see."

"I hoped they might let me stay this time, but it seems not. Rules of the game." Piers tried to smile, but when he coughed again there was blood on his lips.

"Piers, I can't lose you, not now. I don't care what you did, in the past, whenever. It was an accident. It's now that counts. I love you, I need you."

"You must, it has to be. But I'm leaving you a better man Chris. You're complete now, not a half-filled shell. You have a long life ahead of you. You'll find fulfillment. And you'll find love again. That's part of the game too...." Piers fell silent.

"Game? What game? Piers, what do you mean? Piers wait, don't go..."

The hazel eyes flickered. "The game? Making you whole again, paying for my crime. In this reality you're a cowboy. You've been all sorts Chris, a policeman, a teacher, a pilot.......so many Chris' in so many realities. All playing their part so that one day a Christopher Redfield will help save the world, a soldier. But for that to happen, all those other Chris' have to survive. Wherever and whenever. My job, my fate, is to make sure they do, through my own sacrifice. That's the real game. That's why I couldn't let you ride the black stallion. It had to be me, it always had to be me. Just as one day, in another place and time you'll get your childhood wish. You'll be that soldier. I can see that much, that's _your_ endgame."

"A soldier? How did you know? I never said."

Piers smiled. "Didn't I always tell you I know what I know? Yes, you'll get to go to the military academy. Not here, but in another reality. Just as one day I won't die saving you, but will live on, with you. That's _my_ endgame. I hoped it might be this time, but I guess not.

"But we'll meet again, you promise? Will I remember you?"

"Yes, we will, though you may not remember me. Just in dreams and distant fuzzy memories perhaps, I don't know. They call them transcendent memories."

"They? Who do you mean? These beings?"

_He's said too much?_

_No, but he's said enough._

_Time then?_

_I think so, bring him back._

"Yes, the game players, Finn will explain." Piers shivered violently. "I'm so cold now. It's time for me to go Chris, they're taking me back. See you soon, someplace else......I love you...."

"NO! Piers.."

"...always have, always will.....Goodbye Chris.s..s...s.... The light faded in the hazel eyes and was gone.

"PIERS!"

Chris bent his head and kissed him. A single tear fell on Piers' cold cheek as he did, sparkling in the light from blue heaven above the high ridge. Then the light slowly spread over the still form until it covered it. Blue, intense, just like the sky above them. Chris and the others had to shield their eyes it was so strong. When they looked again Piers Nivans' body had gone.

For a while no one moved, unsure as to what they had just witnessed. No one spoke, for what was there to say? Then Finn knelt down next to Chris, taking the big man's hands and clasping them in his own. He recited the only prayer he'd ever learned. The one his mother used to say every night she put tucked him in bed, before she too, had become an angel. So he knew that somehow it was appropriate. 

 

_"Angels bless and angels keep_

_Angels guard me while I sleep_

_Bless my heart and bless my home_

_Bless my spirit as I roam_

_Guide and guard me through the night_

_And wake me with the morning's light."_

"Amen." They all said it together. Up on the high ridge Rinty let out a single mournful howl. Then silence, except for the sound of the wind until, at last, Chris spoke again.

"He was like an angel Finn."

"He was an angel Mr Chris, couldn't you see his wings?" He put a hand on Chris' shoulder. "I'll look after you now. That's what he asked me to do. I know it's important, so I will. Please don't cry." Finn looked upwards. "He's gone flying, in the blue. But he said I could tell you our secrets."

"Secrets? What secrets Finn? I don't understand you."

"First of all you must cowboy up Mr Chris. I'm going to help you because Piers told me to, and when you're better I will tell you about him because he said I could, so you wouldn't be sad. You're my special friend now and I've got to look after you. Piers will be watching us when he's flying." It was a lot to say in one go. Finn drew a deep breath when he'd finished.

"Thank you Finn." Chris patted his hand. It was in Finn's childlike innocence and his obvious faith in Piers' afterlife that Chris suddenly found unexpected strength and peace of mind. "I don't know why Finn, but I'm not truly sad. I have this strange sense I will see him again."

Finn smiled. "We all will Mr Chris, we all will."

************************

**Epilogue**

Peter Carney took Piers' advice, and his card with the name and number on it, which he presented to one Lt. Gary Hall, a US Navy SEAL at the NAB Coronado in San Diego. He graduated top of the class after 6 months training and found being a SEAL was, for him, much more fun than being a cowboy.

Claire Redfield married Ben Airhart and they raised a big family, with a sister for every brother. Ben never did tell Claire that it was Piers who'd bought the flowers and chocolates for him to give her. And if Claire suspected, she never said. But she made sure he bought plenty more himself in the years that followed.

Captain Jill Valentine decided she was better off married to the US Army. The last time she visited Chris and Claire she was a full Colonel, with her sights on Washington DC, and at least one silver star.

Andy Walker didn't take to goats, and his sister didn't take to him. He went back to the ranch, and made enormous tips reading poems and singing songs with the guests around the camp fire at night. Telling them bedtime ghost stories about the spirits of the cowboys who roamed the high ridge at night. That.....and playing poker! This was one of Andy's favorite poems, and Chris and Finn's too, because it reminded them all of Piers. 

 

_Drift Along Lonely Cowboy_

_by Curley Fletcher_

 

_In the far away Heavens in distant blue skies,_

_High above in the bright gleaming sun,_

_Is a heaven of rest, for the Great Master's guest,_

_When the Round-up on Earth is all done._

 

_Through ever green meadows the riders will stray,_

_In the flush of an Eternal dawn._

_With the Boss by your side through the Heavens you'll ride,_

_Drift along, lonely cowboy, drift on._

 

_Drift along, lonely cowboy, drift to your new range,_

_There's a Chuckwagon camped there on high._

_Old time friends you will find, who once left you behind,_

_And we'll all meet you there bye and bye._

 

_The Boss of the Round-up will lend you a hand,_

_He'll be waiting for you in the dawn._

_In the campfire's glow are old faces you'll know,_

_Drift along, lonely cowboy, drift on._

Carl Alfonso backed Chris' venture into horse breeding. They founded a successful stud line with the black stallion, although no one else ever rode it. Carl gave the money he made to the son he'd now officially adopted, Finn Macauley-Alfonso.

The Lazy-R ranch was renamed. It became the Winged-R ranch, with angel's wings of course!

When he wasn't playing frisbee with Chris, Rinty roamed the high ridge looking for his friend with the golden skin and the hazel eyes. And sometimes, though he couldn't be sure, Rinty thought his howls were answered.

And Chris Redfield and Finn Macauley? Well, they both learned to cowboy up. And so they became the very best of cowboys.......and the very best of friends. And they shared so many secrets it sometimes seemed as if Piers was right there with them. Which, in a way, he was.

As for Piers Nivans himself, in a place where his past and his present mingled with his future, he remained the subject of much discussion.....

_Has he atoned sufficiently do you think?_

_Yes, that last game was rather elegantly played. Yes, I think he has._

_Splendid! I agree. So, they may remain together after the end of this next game?_

_Yes. Now he must make his own choices. To live, or to sacrifice himself once more._

_Unless.....?_

_Of course! My thoughts exactly, ha ha!_

_We could call the first one Alpha Team, observe how it goes. What do you think?_

_Alpha Team, yes, very fitting. Your turn I believe?_

_Good! Mmm, let me see now.....I know! I'll start with a letter...._

In a barrack block in Fort Bragg, a young lieutenant in the Army's Special Forces, the famous Green Berets, sat on his bunk with an envelope in his hand. The golden-skinned sniper with the whirling hazel eyes opened the letter slowly, his hands trembling.

_"You are invited to attend selection for Alpha Team...."_

_.....Signed: Christopher Redfield, Captain, B.S.A.A_

So it began again. Another life to save, but Piers Nivans had a strange feeling this time, one he'd never experienced all the previous occasions. Could this be the final one? Could this really be his endgame? He smiled as he folded the letter and put it back in the envelope.

"I'm coming Chris."

A single tear rolled down golden skin, catching the sunlight as it fell. It came to rest on the high cheek-bone and sparkled with all the colours of the rainbow. He looked out of the barrack window, up to the blue heaven and smiled again.

"Thank you."

The white light filled his mind.

_Good game Piers._

**Author's Note:**

> At last I feel confident enough to put Chris and Piers into an 'alternate' AU other than my usual B.S.A.A. one. I've always liked Cowboys and Westerns, so that part was easy. Writing Chris and Piers outside of their normal environment wasn't! See what you think and let me know.


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